


Troublemaker

by zaynscheekbones



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: GTOP, M/M, anyway, but it is gonna be fluffy and lovely, i honestly why am i doing this, i just made it gay, jiyong is not very good at being a student, props to JK rowling for creating harry potter, seunghyun is not very good at being a ravenclaw, this is so fluffy and i have zero apologies, this is the nerdiest thing i've ever done oh my god i can't believe myself, two boys fall in love in a greenhouse basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynscheekbones/pseuds/zaynscheekbones
Summary: Seunghyun loves plants and a boy with five colours in his hair.(Or the one where Seunghyun is a 6th year Ravenclaw student, asked to mentor the school's resident bad boy)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> bonus points if you spot the accidental innuendo

 

They’ve never met before, but Seunghyun has already formed a pretty concrete idea of Jiyong before they first meet.

 

_Lazy. Reckless. Arrogant._

At least, those are the words that are thrown around the school. It’s a small school with traditional values, so if you stand out then _you stand out._ Jiyong certainly stands out, with a different hair colour each week and a tattoo along his neck. The spell used on it was so permanent that not even McGonnagal could work it off. They’re in different houses and different years, so all Seunghyun has ever done is stare from afar, wonder just how one person could get away with so much shit.

 

He gets his answer from Flitwick, sitting him down one evening for a chat. He arrives at his office with dread in his stomach; his last marks were _dire_ and last during his last charms lesson he accidentally sent a girl to the infirmary. But there’s a smile on his professor’s face as he invites him in and Seunghyun eases up a little.

 

“There’s a 5th year student in Gryffindor that Professor McGonnagal and I were hoping you would be able to tutor in herbology. He’s in the run up to his OWLs, and we’re worried he isn’t treating his studies with the diligency that he should do.” He mutters the last bit under his breath, pausing to adjust his glasses. “You did so well in that exam, and we feel like he could benefit from having someone like you mentor him for a bit.”

 

Clasping his hands in front of his chest, he looks up at Seunghyun with hopeful eyes. Seunghyun is confused.

 

“Someone like me?” He asks. He’s barely scraping passes in most of his classes, and Flitwick knows this.

 

“I know you’re busy, so I can see to it that you get some extra credit.” He says, ignoring Seunghyun’s last question. Cogs in Seunghyun’s mind turn as he weighs up his options.

 

“I didn’t know tutoring was a thing here?” Seunghyun asks, stalling for time before making his decision. On the one hand he desperately wants those extra credits. But on the other hand he does want to make sure he has time to eat, sleep, and function as a human being. So he’s torn.

 

“Well, if I can be truthful with you, we don’t usually like to do this. But the boy’s father works for the Department of Magical Education. So we’re backed into a corner, really.”

 

Now Seunghyun can see the desperation in his professor’s eyes, and he’s terrible saying no at the best of times.

 

“Who is it?” He says, with an audible sigh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What do you know about Kwon Jiyong?” He asks Youngbae, walking up the spiral staircase to their common room. His friend flashes him a look, but they both pause to knock on the door.

 

“Which came first, the phoenix, or the flame?” A voice calls out. They both look at each other, waiting for the other to speak first.

 

“A circle has no beginning.” Youngbae finally answers, knowing he won’t beat Seunghyun when it comes to a battle of will. They step inside the common room, greeted by a roaring fire. There are two first years in their usual seats, but Seunghyun flashes them a look and they hurry away. He doesn’t look to see where they go, just slides down onto the sofa and slaps his books down on the coffee table. They’re only 5 weeks into the term but he’s already built up a mountain of work. He has no idea how Youngbae manages to both captain the quidditch team and keep up with his work.

 

“The Gryffindor kid?” Youngbae asks. Seunghyun nods in response. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Hyorin make her way into the common room, and he doesn’t miss the way Youngbae’s eyes flit towards her either. He smirks.

 

“Go and say hi.”

 

Youngbae’s jaw clenches. The fire beside them crackles and Seunghyun can imagine his own head inside it if he isn’t careful.

 

“So Jiyong.” He says, swiftly changing the subject. “All I know is that everyone expected him to be a great seeker when he started at Hogwarts, but he might actually be the worst player I’ve ever seen.”

 

“For once, could you tell me something that isn’t related to quidditch?” Seunghyun sighs. He pulls up his ancient runes book to thwack Youngbae with it when he carries on with protestations of ‘ _he mistook a_ pigeon _for the snitch!’._

 

There’s a pause as Youngbae rubs his head.

 

“Whatever you think about him is probably true. He’s a bit of weirdo, doesn’t really fit in. I’ve heard his father is filthy rich, though.”

 

“Who told you this?”

 

“Who do you think? There are some perks that come with being Seungri’s partner for potions.”  Youngbae smirks. “Now, this report for transfigurations. Need help?”

 

Seunghyun stays silent because Youngbae already knows the answer. They don’t have a running joke about him making it into Ravenclaw by accident for nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weekend comes before Seunghyun has to meet Jiyong, during which they’re allowed into Hogsmead for the first time that term. It’s only October but there’s already a chill in the air, snow on the mountain peaks as they make their way into the town, weaving around excited third years and jinxes being shot from wand to wand. Youngbae is a prefect but turns a blind eye to most of it, keeping his hands safely tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Seunghyun does the same, which is why when he trips on a rock his hands don’t come out to save him.

 

Landing hard on his bum, he blinks rapidly to fight back the tears already forming in his eyes. Annoyingly it’s his body’s first response to most things, and Youngbae has his own tears gathering in his eyes as he’s doubled up laughing. He eventually offers out a hand to hike Seunghyun up, who dusts himself off, willing the redness in his cheeks to disappear. A couple of kids giggle as they walk past, but their hands fly up to their mouths after Youngbae shoots them a look.

 

“Youngbae!” Someone calls out from behind them. They both spin around to the voice, watching Seungri walk towards them. “You guys walk so _fast._ I’ve been behind you for forever, calling out for you.”

 

His green and silver scarf drapes over his shoulder, the end of it scraping in the dirt. Youngbae bends down to pick it up, winding it around Seungri’s neck.

 

“Didn’t stop to think we were walking fast away from _you_?” Youngbae asks, as the three of them start walking again. Thatched houses start to become visible as they near the village, carrying down along the winding road.

 

“Funny. How are you guys?” Seungri asks, and they start catching up. The topic eventually turns to their joint subject of potions, one that not even Youngbae can seem to excel at.

 

“Slughorn hates me, I know it. He’s my head of house and yet he hates me.” Seungri says, shaking his head vigorously. He’s not exaggerating; most of the professors hate Seungri.

 

“Could be worse. You could be setting slugs on fire like Seunghyun over here.” Clasping a hand on Seunghyun’s shoulder, Youngbae throws back.

 

“Cheers.” Seunghyun mutters, whilst Seungri bursts out laughing.

 

“I’ll never understand how you did that, we weren’t even using slugs!” He shouts, still laughing. “How did you get into Ravenclaw again?”

 

“He’s good at some things! Just not…everything.” Youngbae hits back defensively. But Seunghyun isn’t inclined to be grateful towards him. “Speaking of which…guess who Seunghyun’s been asked to tutor in herbology?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Jiyong. Gryffindor.” Youngbae answers. Immediately Seungri’s face changes.

 

“ _Yikes._ I haven’t heard great things about that kid.”

 

“What do you mean?” Seunghyun asks, cautiously.

 

“I don’t know, the usual shit mostly. Heard he was dating a girl two years older than him then slept with his _brother_ after they broke up-”

 

“So he’s gay, or bi, whatever, what’s wrong with that?” Youngbae interrupts. Seunghyun stays silent.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean the whole sister-brother thing. It’s a bit…never mind.” Seungri tapers off.

 

Earlier that year Seunghyun had finally confided in Youngbae about his attraction to guys. He’d known his whole life, but growing up in a Christian household had kept his lips shut tight on the subject since he first learned to speak. The wizard thing was enough for them to deal with, the gay thing would just be the final nail in the coffin. One night he sat Youngbae down on the bed opposite him, hands shaking but determined to tell _someone_ before he collapsed in on himself with the weight of his secret. In the end, it was far less dramatic than his gay arse had always envisioned.

 

“That’s cool.” Youngbae simply said, shrugging. 

 

He says it again now, a hand on Seungri’s shoulder.

 

“Incest really floats Seunghyun’s boat.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They arrange to meet in the greenhouses after dinner, getting special permission to be there after hours. It should be eerie, being there without any students; the rest of the castle is, at least. But Seunghyun knows every inch of the place, from the mandrake to the shrivelfig. He barely scraped passes in most of his OWLs, but herbology comes as second nature to him.

 

 _It’s no wonder you don’t have a boyfriend_ , Youngbae would joke. How could he when his first love has _leaves_.

 

The greenhouse is empty when he walks in, but he’s not alone for long. Jiyong steps through the glass door, offering a small nod to Seunghyun. Green strands of hair fall down his face and his hand is loose around his wand. His robes are decorated in patches and rips; Seunghyun feels woefully uncool.  

 

“Dyed your hair for the occasion?” He jokes. It’s a shit joke, and that shows in the confusion that flashes in the other boy’s face. “Green. Plants.” He offers as an explanation.

 

Jiyong’s eyes widen.

 

“Oh, didn’t even realise.” He says, mouth open in a small ‘o’. With that, the strands swiftly change to black. Seunghyun is left with his mouth agape.

 

“You-“

 

“Metamorphagus. I’m too lazy to control it, so usually it just happens.” Jiyong interrupts him. The look on his face says _leave it_ , so Seunghyun does.

 

“I’m Seunghyun.” He says instead, offering out a hand.

 

“I know.” Jiyong replies. Seunghyun raises both eyebrows. “You’re the hot guy in Ravenclaw everyone talks about.”

 

Left speechless, Seunghyun just stares at him. Everyone? _Hot?_ He’d always loved flying under the radar, letting Youngbae take the spotlight. Jiyong’s words have thrown him.

 

“Oh, I’m not…”

 

“Not what? Hot? Ravenclaw? Seunghyun?”

 

“I’m, um…nevermind.” He stutters. A blush creeps up his cheeks. “So plants, yes?”

 

“Yes. Plants. That’s why we’re here.” Jiyong smirks at him. Seunghyun has never met someone so effortlessly confident, and it’s intimidating. The other boy is smaller in stature than Seunghyun, but his face is filling his stomach with butterflies. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time, not since his sister brought her boyfriend home and he accidentally caught him in his boxers. Accidentally.

 

The feeling grows as they work their way through the plants, Seunghyun first just trying to get the other boy orientated with the greenhouse. He sneaks glances at Jiyong to check that he’s paying attention, but each time he does so it’s near impossible to tear his gaze away again.

 

The time passes by quickly, and they run over their extended curfew by 20 minutes.

 

“Whoops. Lost track of time.” He laughs. It comes out nervously, and he mentally kicks himself. “You should go, I’ll put everything back where we found it.”

 

“Sure.” Jiyong says, dusting off his hands. He mutters something under his breath and then the dirt is gone, soft pink hands in their place. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

 

He flashes a smirk at Seunghyun before ducking out of the door. Despite his complete lack of experience with the same sex, Seunghyun is fairly certain that Jiyong is _flirting_ with him. Seungri’s words come to his mind and he becomes keenly aware that this is a guy who he is both attracted to and actually has a chance with. It’s going to be a tough couple of months.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grabbing Youngbae by the collar, he drags him up the stairs into their dormitory, ignoring calls from their friends. He all but slams Youngbae down on the bed opposite him, locking the dormitory door and then checking it’s locked 3 times. His friend is wide eyed, watching him pace around the room.

 

“I have a problem.” Seunghyun says, running a hand through his already messy hair.

 

“Clearly! What the fuck is going on?” Youngbae explains. “Jesus, did you kill someone?”

 

“It’s about Jiyong.”

 

“What about him? Did you-did you kill Jiyong?” The last part comes out in a whisper. Seunghyun shakes his head violently.

 

“I’m in love.” He says with a sigh, flopping down onto his bed. His hands run over the bronze and blue sheets, and he can sense exasperation flooding from Youngbae.

 

“You’ve met him once, you’re not in love.” Youngbae sighs. “This is just a crush.”

 

If it is a crush, then it’s a crush of magnitude proportions. Every time their hands would touch that evening Seunghyun would feel his heart race at a 110 miles an hour. His breathing would come to a halt if Jiyong was so much within a metre of his personal space. He spent the walk back to their common room thinking about when they would next meet, what he would say, what Jiyong would say back.

 

“Maybe you’re right.” Seunghyun concedes, placing his hands on his chest. “He’s just so good looking, Youngbae. And so _cool._ So far out of my league.”

 

He lifts his head, looking to Youngbae for support. His friend just grimaces.

 

“Liking people sucks.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turns out that it _really_ sucks. They have one more meetings that week and in typical fashion Seunghyun arrives first. He ends up waiting so long it makes him worry that he’s gotten the wrong day, but then a mop of dark green hair is ducking through the doorway. His face is flushed and his breathing comes in short gasps.

 

“Sorry. Sorry. Got caught by Filch on my way here. Fucker didn’t believe I had tutoring!” He exclaims, running a hand through his hair. Looking at the boy in front of him, Seunghyun can understand where he was coming from. It must show on his face, because Jiyong’s hair turns from green to fire engine red. “Don’t tell me you agree with him?”

 

“I mean…” Aware that he needs to pick his words carefully, Seunghyun starts off slowly. “You look…”

 

“Look what?”

 

“You look a little like the classic bad boy.” He answers. Jiyong raises an eyebrow. “It’s a good look.” He adds, trying to pacify him. It’s the truth, though. Smudged eyeliner and piercings frame his face, but they don’t make him look like a model student. Within a heartbeat Jiyong’s expression turns from murderous to soft, his hair back to his natural black.

 

“Alright then.”

 

Throughout their whole lesson Seunghyun  is unable to take his eyes off the other boy. Luckily, Jiyong is too engrossed in their work to notice most of the time, but when he presses his body into Seunghyun’s back to take a closer look at their work it’s hard to miss the sparks that fly from Seunghyun’s wand. Surprised, Seunghyun knocks over the empty pot on the table, sending it shattering over the ground.

 

“Crap.” He mutters, pulling out his wand. “ _Reparo.”_

The pot stays shattered.

 

“You’re a Ravenclaw, aren’t you supposed to be smart?” Jiyong asks, laughing. He pulls out his own wand and the pot is fixed instantly. Seunghyun would be bitter, but Jiyong has the _best_ laugh. Melodic and adorable and sexy all at the same time. He bends down to pick up the pot, ducking his head down so Jiyong doesn’t see the smile that just spread over his face.

 

“I don’t think I got the memo.” Seunghyun sighs, standing upright once more.

 

“You’re good at this though, right? Like, crazy good.”

 

“I’m good with plants. It’s just that not everything is my…forte. Should’ve gone into farming.” He notices Jiyong’s bemused expression and hastens to explain. “Sorry, my parents are muggles.”

 

“My mum’s a muggle.” Jiyong replies back. Seunghyun bites his tongue to stop him from asking about Jiyong’s father.

 

“Why do they think you need tutoring? You seem… _smart_ , I mean that was a nonverbal spell you just did.” He says instead. This is the most he’s been able to talk to Jiyong without stuttering.

 

Jiyong’s eyes roll.

 

“My dad thinks I don’t care about my studies. Thinks I’m a _troublemaker._ ” His hands go up to make air quotes around the last word. “They’re pairing me up with plant nerds like you.”

 

There’s a small smile playing on his lips, and it’s infectious. The way his eyes crinkle up is almost enough to stop Seunghyun’s thoughts in their tracks. Almost. Thus far the only advice he’s received from Youngbae was ‘stay cool, ask questions’. He’s not very good at the first part, so he goes for the latter.

 

“Do you care?” He asks, leaning back against the wooden table top.

 

“Not really.” Jiyong replies. There’s a dead flower in the palm of his hand and he passes it into Seunghyun’s hand.

 

“I wouldn’t have thought that from our lessons.” Seunghyun replies, staring at the flower. He didn’t intend on saying it, doesn’t even feel comfortable using the word _lesson._ It places them in a teacher-student dynamic, and not an I-want-to-get-in-your-pants dynamic.

 

“Yeah, funny that.” Jiyong says. And then he winks. He _winks._ Seunghyun is pretty sure his heart stops in that moment. The dead flower in his hand unfurls slowly, healthy and alive again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MCR are a wizard punk band and Jiyong is in trouble.

Growing up, he always found it near impossible to control his magic. Even before the letter came strange things would always happen around him; ivy tendrils weaving their way up the walls to his bedroom window, his sister’s clothes going missing and then appearing in his closet whenever she pissed him off. To this day it still happens, whenever he’s home for the holidays his mum will almost tear her hair out over the jungle that springs up at the end of their garden, spending entire summers dodging questions from her friends in on the PTA.

 

But if he thought it was hard to control before, around Jiyong it’s a whole other story. Their third meeting in the greenhouse starts with a bang after they collide into each other in the corridor. Seunghyun’s books scatter onto the ground and their thud echoes around the stone walls. Both of them stoop down to pick them up, talking over each other and scraping at the ground before sheets of parchment can fly away. Then they’re meeting each other’s eyes, both crouching down on the floor.

 

“You have some dirt on your nose.” Jiyong almost whispers. His voice is unnecessarily husky, and Seunghyun’s heartbeat falters. Without waiting for Seunghyun to reply he stretches out an arm, softly brushing his fingers along Seunghyun’s skin. He could swear that the fire brackets along the walls flicker as their skin meets. “There.”

 

He winks, standing up abruptly and leaving Seunghyun still crouching on the floor. From behind them he can hear a quiet giggle, and turns around quickly to see a painting trying to stifle her laughter. After shooting her a look he gets up slower than Jiyong, a little less gracefully, and once he has his books tucked under his arm they both set off for the greenhouse. This time Jiyong is _definitely_ flirting with him. And still each and every time all Seunghyun is able to do is let out a nervous giggle. He can’t even look the other boy in the eye.

 

Sadly, this goes on for _weeks_. It reaches the point where Seunghyun goes to sleep imagining their first kiss, who will propose to who, whether they’ll have _kids_ for God’s sake. Professor Sprout pulls him aside one afternoon, asking whether he’d noticed how everything was growing so much quicker, almost uncontrollably. He hadn’t noticed, but he looks around the greenhouse. Branches stretch over his head that were never there before, lining the glass walls, and buds were beginning to appear on flowers, despite the fact that it was November, not Spring.

 

Eventually Youngbae gets tired of hearing about it, sitting him in front of the fire place one evening for what he says will be a frank discussion. Instead, he pulls out a copy of Witch Weekly. Bewitched, Youngbae’s childhood crush, are on the cover, but his friend doesn’t spare them a single glance. He flicks through the pages at lightening speed, spinning the magazine around and slapping it down in front of Seunghyun once he finds the page.

 

“ _How to approach your crush.”_

The title reads. Seunghyun shuts his eyes tight. It’s in moments like these that he really wishes he’d passed his apparating lessons. When he opens his eyes again Youngbae is still there in front of him, wicked grin and all. Never has Seunghyun been so glad to see someone, though, as when he casts his gaze upwards to find Hyorin standing behind Youngbae. There’s a grin the size of Singapore on her face as her eyes flit between the magazine and the two of them.

 

“I just came to borrow a book, Youngbae. If you’re busy though I can come back later.” She says, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Seunghyun watches everything dawn on Youngbae, and then watches his friend splutter and stutter before jumping up.

 

“No, now is fine.” He manages to get out. Despite his obvious concern for his friend, from a selfish point of view it’s great seeing someone so usually well composed fall apart in front of his crush. “Read this before I get back.” He hisses at Seunghyun, shoving the magazine into his chest before taking the lead through the common room.

 

Seunghyun picks up the magazine with a sigh. It’s either this or he start on his Potions essay.

 

_“Is he; a. fun and outgoing, b. shy and sweet, c. mysterious and aloof.”_

Already Seunghyun is at a dead end. Jiyong seems to be all of the above, but he goes for c. anyway. C. takes him to the next question.

 

“ _How does he treat you; a. nicer than other people, b. he doesn’t talk to you, c. he’s meaner to you than other people.”_

Seunghyun has no idea. The closest he’s been to seeing Jiyong interact with another human is when they potted mandrakes the other week. But he remembers the way Jiyong almost spat at them out of fury, so he goes for a. this time.

 

“ _Are you; a. just getting to know each other, b. friends, c. best friends.”_

 

He circles b.

 

“ _Does he flirt with you; yes, no._ ”

 

He’s very certain this time when he circles ‘yes’. Text appears on the page that says ‘ _just go for it’_ and Seunghyun slams the magazine down onto the table. It’s only now that he’s realising he was actually expecting something to come from this quiz and he laughs out loud to himself. Two first year girls giggle at him so he tries his best to look intimidating, but that’s hard to do with a copy of Witch Weekly in front of him. Thankfully Youngbae comes back, and the two girls run off. His friend takes one look at the magazine and sighs.

 

“Wasn’t really expecting it to work.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Jiyong’s behaviour is anything to go by, it doesn’t feel like Seunghyun has anything to worry about when it comes to approaching his crush. The other boy steps his game up a notch one morning, sliding onto the bench next to Youngbae in the Great Hall. A spoonful of cereal hovers halfway to Youngbae’s mouth as he stares at Jiyong, then to Seunghyun and then back to Jiyong. Seunghyun would say something but he’s equally as startled, not helped by another boy slipping onto the bench next to him.

 

“This is my friend, Daesung.” Jiyong says, completely nonchalant.

 

“Hi.” Daesung mutters. Seunghyun can feel discomfort coming off him in waves. Jiyong turns to his left to look at Youngbae.

 

“I’m Jiyong.”

 

“Hi.” Youngbae says back. He directs a frown at Seunghyun, who shrugs. He has no idea what’s going on either. Other students on their table are starting to take notice, whispering behind their hands. If anyone was expecting an explanation, though, they don’t get it. Wordlessly, Jiyong starts tucking into the food in front of him. They all try to do the same, but one by one they get distracted as each strand of Jiyong’s hair slowly turns from black to forest green.

 

“Um, Jiyong…” Seunghyun says, clearing his throat. The other boy looks up at him, wide eyes and a mouthful of toast. Seunghyun silently motions to his hair.

 

“Dammit. Keeps happening when I’m around you.” Jiyong says, and just like that it’s back to black. Seunghyun keeps his eyes on the plate of food in front of him, but he can feel Youngbae’s stare. _When I’m around you_ goes around and around in his head, and he finds it hard to keep a grin off his face. They eat in silence for a while until without warning the food on the table disappears, signalling that it’s time for their first class. The sound of benches scraping and hurried footsteps fills the Great Hall, extinguished candles dimming the room.

 

“See you soon, Seunghyun.” Jiyong says, winking as he hoists his book bag over his shoulder. Before Seunghyun can reply, Jiyong is gone, dragging Daesung with him. Youngbae grips Seunghyun’s arm as they make their way to their first class.

 

“Did you see that?”

 

“I was there, of course I saw it.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me how much he likes you?”

 

“Huh? He flirts with me, we don’t know if that means he really likes me.”

 

“Please. You should’ve seen the way he kept looking at you over breakfast.”

 

Youngbae’s teasing doesn’t stop the whole way through potions. If Seunghyun’s grade didn’t depend on the other boy’s support he would’ve moved tables, but instead he grits his teeth and bares it. Eventually Seungri gets wind that there’s something going on, and digs and digs and _digs._

“I would tell you, Seunghyun!” He argues, stirring his pot violently. Youngbae grips the spoon to slow him down.

 

“Do I look like I care? Leave it!” Seunghyun argues back, stirring his pot with just as much force. Liquid is starting to splash over the sides of his cauldron, and Youngbae darts out another hand to slow Seunghyun down this time. The wooden table starts to bubble where Seunghyun’s potion spilled, and any further protests from Seungri are prevented by Slughorn barging his way over to the table. 5 points from Ravenclaw.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After that day Jiyong makes himself a permanent fixture at their table. Wherever he goes, Daesung seems to follow. It’s awkward at first, Seunghyun often finds himself getting caught up in conversation with Jiyong only to become aware that Youngbae and Daesung haven’t said a word for the past 10 minutes. They’re still having their lessons, but now it’s different. Now they’re friends outside of the Greenhouse, which feels too nice for Seunghyun to put into words. It’s all going fine, better than fine, actually. Seunghyun has even started flirting back (admittedly, with tips he got from Witch Weekly). It’s all going fine until one morning they’re interrupted by the post. Owls fly through the hall, narrowly missing their heads to drop off papers and parcels. They’ve all left when a final owl swoops down onto their table, releasing a red envelope that comes to rest on Jiyong’s plate. Everyone around shares a similar expression as Jiyong’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. It’s a howler.

 

“Fuck.” Is all Jiyong manages to say before the envelope disintegrates. A letter unfolds in the air, and a booming voice echoes around the hall. Everyone’s gaze is turned towards them as, presumably, Jiyong’s father screams at his son. He speaks so fast that Seunghyun only manages to catch _disappointed, furious,_ but he gets the gist of it. He ducks his head, trying in vain to look like he’s not intruding. But it’s impossible to miss the final ‘ _or we’ll take you out of Hogwarts’_ that bounces off the walls whilst the parchment goes up in flames _._ Ash floats down onto the table and the whole hall stays silent.

 

“What did you _do?_ ” Youngbae asks, and just like that the hall is filled with voices again. Seunghyun risks a glance at Jiyong; he’s never seen the other boy look so sheepish.

 

“He sent a firebomb in the post to his father’s secretary. Blew her eyebrows off.” Daesung pipes up, after Jiyong stays silent. “She was-“

 

“Shut up.” Jiyong hisses, interrupting his friend. Daesung has the sense to look sheepish now, clamping his mouth shut tightly. Jiyong’s hair has taken on a fire engine red again, but Seunghyun tries to look anywhere but him. His head is spinning with _firebomb_ and _blew her eyebrows_ off, but thankfully they’re saved by their first class so Seunghyun doesn’t have to figure out how he’s going to talk to Jiyong after this. They all hurriedly clamber off the benches, Jiyong dashing off without a goodbye. Once he’s out of earshot Youngbae swings his gaze around to Seunghyun.

 

“You need to re-evaluate this crush, mate. He tried to set someone on _fire._ ” He says, no trace of a joke in his voice. Unfortunately, Seunghyun has to agree with him.

 

They begin to make their way across the grounds, trudging across snow that had settled the night before. Cold water seeps into their shoes and the ends of their robes quickly become sodden, but Youngbae mutters _impervius_ and it’s gone in a flash. They haven’t spoken since they left the Great Hall; Seunghyun is too wrapped up in the events of that morning, and Youngbae’s gaze is fixed intently on Hyroin in front of them. Soft flakes of snow begin to fall from the sky, landing in her hair in a sharp contrast.

 

“Oh.” Youngbae sighs, softly.

 

“Oh?” Seunghyun asks, a smile on his face.

 

“Shut up.” He says, sending snow flying at Seunghyun with his wand. “At least I’m not in love with a psychopath.”

 

“He’s a cute psychopath, though.” Seunghyun answers, shaking his head to get the snow out of his ears. 

 

“I suppose, if you like that kind of thing.” Youngbae says, teasing him. Seunghyun takes the bait.

 

“What kind of thing?”

 

“He’s the kid who never stopped listening to My Chemical Romance, Seunghyun.”

 

“You know My Chemical Romance?”

 

“They were _wizards,_ Seunghyun. Not mugggles.”

 

“Unbelievable.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not until a week later that he finally sees Jiyong again. Their professors suspended their meetings for the foreseeable future (something which Youngbae says he’ll thank later on in life) and Jiyong never joined them at breakfast after that again. He’s climbing the steps to the Owlery, clutching a letter to his mum in his hand that he doubts she’ll read it; receiving post by owls was never her thing. It’s more the therapeutic act of writing out his feelings that he enjoys. His breath forms clouds in the air as he puffs up the final stairs, opening the door into the tower. He opens it to find carnage; owls flying around the room, chased by a cat on the ground. Feathers and straw are thrown up in the air and the noise is deafening. In the corner of the room is Jiyong, brandishing his wand.

 

“ _I swear to God Iye, if you-_ “ He begins to hiss at the cat, coming to an immediate halt once he notices Seunghyun. “Hi.”

 

“Hi.” Seunghyun replies, offering a small wave. The chaos carries around the two of them until Jiyong grabs the cat by the collar. A feather lands in his hair and Seunghyun watches the strands turn to a soft grey. He picks up the cat, hoisting it up onto his shoulder. Slowly, the room turns peaceful again and Seunghyun takes his chance to step inside.

 

“Wow, you must be getting a pretty bad impression of me.” Jiyong says, with a small laugh. Seunghyun has never thought himself to be very good with people, but he does have enough emotional intelligence to see the insecurity that flashes in Jiyong’s eyes.

 

“Not at-“ He tries to say, but is interrupted by Jiyong.

 

“Iye likes to run away a lot. He knows He’s not supposed to come to the Owlery, and yet he keeps doing it.” He directs the last bit to the cat, hung over his shoulder like a bag.

 

“Sure.”

 

“And I don’t make a habit of setting people on fire, in case that’s what you were thinking.” Jiyong says quickly, words almost tripping over each other.

 

“I didn’t-“ Once more he’s interrupted by Jiyong.

 

“My dad’s cheating on my mum, with his _secretary_ of all people. So bloody cliché.”

 

“Oh.” Seunghyun says. Now that Jiyong has given him space to talk he has no idea what to say, slightly taken aback by Jiyong’s oversharing. He turns to an owl, instead, gently stroking it and putting the letter between it’s beak. His thoughts are once again interrupted by Jiyong, though.

 

“Do you like it here, Hogwarts?” He asks. Seunghyun turns to look at him, and almost doesn’t recognise the other boy. Teeth worry at his bottom lip and there’s a nervous frown on his forehead.

 

“Yeah. I do.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I just never really fit in before, now I do.” Seunghyun answers with a shrug, fully aware of how cliché it sounds.

 

“Because of the wizard thing?”

 

“Among other things.”

 

“And those would be?” Jiyong asks. “Shit, sorry if I’m prying. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“It’s fine.” Seunghyun replies. Now he’s the one oversharing, something he usually hated to do. “I’m gay. My family’s very religious. Gay wizards don’t really fly at home.”

 

“Well, that’s their loss.” Jiyong says, with a long look at Seunghyun. A small smile comes back on his face, and this is the Jiyong Seunghyun knows. “You know, I’m relieved to find that I haven’t been flirting with you for nothing.”

 

 _There._ That’s the exact moment Seunghyun should’ve spoken up, should’ve said ‘no! You haven’t!’. Gripped him by the waist and kissed him there and then. Instead, he feels his heart miss a beat. He feels a blush creep up his cheeks and would be fairly certain that time had stopped around them were it not for a few feathers still floating down to the floor. It’s only once Jiyong speaks again that Seunghyun realised he was still staring at the other boy, mouth agape.

 

“I’m going home tomorrow.” Jiyong says. Seunghyun gets the feeling he doesn’t mean it casually. “My dad’s decided he needs to keep an eye on me. Of course, it won’t be _his_ eye. Whoever he’s paid, rather.”

 

Whilst anatomically not possible, Seunghyun is pretty certain his stomach drops to the floor.

 

“Oh?” Is all he can say.

 

“Oh.” Jiyong replies, a grimace on his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Youngbae barely manages to conceal his eye roll when Seunghyun flops down onto his bed later that evening.

 

“I have quidditch tomorrow, remember? Don’t be too long with your moping.” He says. All Seunghyun can do is sigh. When time passes and Seunghyun still doesn’t say anything Youngbae speaks up again. “Hey, you alright?” It’s a lot softer this time.

 

“Jiyong’s leaving Hogwarts.” Immediately he can feel Youngbae withdraw his sympathy.

 

“I thought we were staying away from that maniac?”

 

“He’s not a maniac. And how can I when I’m in _love,_ Youngbae?” Seunghyun retorts, flailing his hands about at _love._ His friend doesn’t answer, turning over to face the wall. He whispers _Nox_ and then the room is plunged into darkness.

 

“Get some sleep, Seunghyun.”

 

The next day rolls around faster than he would like. He vaguely registers Youngbae chucking his scarf at him, telling him to show some Ravenclaw pride, before his friend is out of the dorm. He falls straight back to sleep, waking up an hour later to the deafening noise of his alarm. Seungri put a charm on it once and since then Seunghyun has never been able to have a lie in. It’s useful on days like this, though, where Youngbae would almost certainly kill him if he didn’t make it to the game. He pulls on his thermals before the rest of his clothes, knowing that the second he steps outside he’s going to wish he’d never been born. Finally, he tugs on his blue and bronze scarf. He doesn’t wear it often; struggling to feel like a Ravenclaw most of the time.

 

By the time he’s dressed and out of the dorm he can hear the roaring of the crowds from the distance. He hurries along with other latecomers, silently cursing as snow seeps into his shoes. He whispers _impervious,_ but all it does is melt the snow around his feet. Luckily, it seems he has a guardian angel.

 

“Seunghyun!” He hears, and turns around to see Jiyong jogging up to him. His face is flushed and his breath forms clouds in the air, but the hems of his robes are dry. He points his wand and then Seunghyun’s clothes are looking the same way.

 

“Cheers.” He says, once Jiyong has caught up with him. Seunghyun shortens his strides, accommodating for Jiyong’s legs and they walk in sync across the snow. “I thought you were going home today?”

 

Turrets start to become visible in the distance, the noise of the crowd even louder as Seunghyun turns to look at the other boy.

 

“They’re late. Thought I’d try and catch some of the match.”

 

“Didn’t take you as one for quidditch.”

 

“I’m not, I was hoping I would see you here.” Jiyong answers, honestly. Again, Seunghyun is taken aback by how straightforward the other boy can be. He clears his throat when the silence gets a bit too much. “Wanted to thank you, for helping me over the past few months.”

 

“It’s fine.” Seunghyun answers, mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. They trudge the rest of the way to the stands in silence, and Jiyong follows him up to the Ravenclaw section. They’re just in time; as soon as they’ve settled down Madam Hooch drops the quaffle. Youngbae charges down as fast as an arrow, scooping the ball out of the air and then the game has begun. It’s always hard for Seunghyun to pay attention at the best of times, but now he’s keenly aware of how close Jiyong is to him. So close that he can feel the rise and fall of Jiyong’s chest, that letting his arm go limp will make his hand brush against Jiyong’s own. The bell dings, dings and dings. Seunghyun doesn’t take in a single point scored.

 

Ravenclaw are 40 points up when a loud crack echoes in the air right next to Seunghyun.

 

“Jesus!” He shouts. To his left is a house elf, the first house elf he’s ever seen in person. Hunched over, dressed in a tatty t-shirt. It’s not looking at him, though, it’s looking intently at Jiyong who stares back, furious.

 

“Yes, Hokey?” He hisses.

 

“Your father says you have to come with me now.”

 

“5 minutes.”

 

“But-“

 

“ _Five. Minutes.”_ He says, through gritted teeth. Once the house elf disapparates, with another loud crack that is sure to give Seunghyun tinnitus, Jiyong turns to Seunghyun.“Can you spare 5 minutes?”

 

“Sure.” Seunghyun says, but Jiyong has already started walking. They weave their way through the crowds, gripping onto handrails as their feet slip and slide on the icy steps. Seunghyun mutters _sorry, sorry, so sorry,_ to everyone in their wake. It’s a miracle he manages to even cling onto basic courtesy; his mind is travelling at 100 miles a minute with thoughts of where, what and _why_ Jiyong is doing. The bell dings; Youngbae’s just scored another point, and Seunghyun turns back around to watch. In doing that, he almost misses Jiyong duck under the canvas into one of the turrets. He quickly slips under there too, stepping into complete darkness. He sticks a hand out in front of his face to feel his way, putting it down once Jiyong whispers _Lumos_. His features are illuminated by the cold light, the only thing Seunghyun can see. The noise of the crowds above is still deafening, but neither of them try and speak.  

 

“I just wanted to do this once. I hope you don’t mind.” Jiyong speaks, softly. Their faces are inches apart, and Seunghyun feels his pulse quicken underneath his layers. Then Jiyong’s lips are on his own, soft and warm and _gentle_. The crowd roars above as Ravenclaw wins the game, but Seunghyun has fireworks going off inside his own head.  


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Diagon Alley.”_ He whispers, releasing the floo powder from his hand into the fireplace. The clock on the wall opposite reads half six in the morning, which is painfully early but if he waits any longer his family will wake up. The last time his dad caught him standing in the fireplace it launched them into a long conversation about why he couldn’t just take a bloody bus. And even without that he’s going stir crazy. As much as he loves Christmas, being trapped in a house with his parents never takes long to grate on him (especially when there’s no Youngbae present to _accio_ over his boxers in the morning).

 

Which is what finds him standing in amongst ashes and old lumps of coal in the early hours of the morning, squatting to fit his tall body inside their tiny fireplace. Green flames engulf him as he heads on his way to meet Youngbae, following the instructions his friend sent in a discrete letter dropped off by a raggedly looking owl. In a split second he’s rolling out into the leaky cauldron (he never could quite get the landing right), sending clouds of ash and dust out into the air around him. Several wizards and witches jump out of his way, pulling up their hems to avoid the dirt.

 

“Pathetic.” He hears Youngbae say, eyes crinkled up from laughing.

 

“Sorry. I grew up with a Ford Fiesta, not fireplaces and dragons and shit.” He bites back. Youngbae offers him a hand up, still laughing, and stands back as Seunghyun starts to dust himself down. Neither of them are of age, so after making sure Seunghyun escaped from the fireplace unscathed they head out of the pub’s back door. Dodging tall (and drunk) witches and wizards, they arrive at a tall, brick wall. From the outside that’s all it looks like; damaged and broken bricks surrounding a pub garden. But Youngbae pulls out his wand and taps several bricks in a sequence, and they both stand back as the bricks begin to move left, right, upwards and downwards. Once a large enough hole opens up the two of them step through it, immediately hit by sounds, sights and smells that have no place in the muggle world.

 

After Hogwarts, the Alley is undoubtedly his favourite place. It’s where the weird and the wonderful meet; fireworks darting out from the Weasley’s shop, goblins with hunched backs and coin purses full to the brim, owls swooping overhead. The two of them make their way over the cobbled stones, pausing to look at new Christmas displays along the street and dodging various street peddlers dangling pendants and chocolates in front of their faces.

 

“Have you got your Christmas presents yet?” Youngbae asks, as they make their way into the Weasley’s shop, ducking in order to narrowly miss a toy flying into their heads.

 

“No. But I think if I got them anything from here they’d have me sectioned.” He answers, knowing in full the extent to his parents’ leniency regarding magic. Youngbae snorts, and they part ways to go look around the shop. Ginger hair bobs up and down behind the till; one of the Weasley brothers working the shop that day, and his voice rings out clear around the shop.

 

“Questionable quills! They give you all the right answers for only 2 sickles!”

 

If it sounds to be true, it probably is. This doesn’t stop Seunghyun making his way through the busy shop floor over towards the stand. They’re piled high on the shelves, surrounded by all the other cheap stuff the shop has to offer. A bunch of younger students stand chattering in front of the shelves, making Seunghyun feel very out of place. But he’s willing to try anything to get these NEWTs. Just as he’s about to pick one up, though, he hears a loud giggle from behind him.

 

“You don’t think those actually work?”

 

He hears, spinning round to meet the voice. Seungri is standing behind him, a judgemental eyebrow raised.

 

“ _No._ ” Seunghyun answers, his voice dripping with attitude. Which is true, but he’s not about to tell Seungri that for the sake of his future endeavours and lifelong happiness he’d been hoping and praying for it to work.

 

“Hey.” Mr. Weasley nips in between them, yanking the quill out from Seunghyun’s hand. They both mutter _sorry_ before moving away from the owner, standing in a corner whilst children rush around them.

 

“Christmas shopping?” Seungri asks. There’s a handful of suspicious looking Weasley branded sweets in his hand, and Seunghyun makes a mental note never to accept food from Seungri again.

 

“Kinda, well Youngbae is, at least.”

 

“Oh, where is he?” Seungri asks again, stretching his neck to look around the shop. Seunghyun does the same, but their search is fruitless.

 

“I’m not sure, he’s so short that it’s hard to find him in busy places.” He says. And, as if summoning the devil himself, Youngbae crops up behind Seungri. There’s a frown on his face, and he clearly isn’t happy with either of them. It doesn’t take him long to start exchanging jabs with Seungri, and after more pointed looks from Mr. Weasley they all decide that it’s best to leave the shop. Stepping back out onto the street, it’s clear that they’ve hit the lunch time rush. The cobblestones are full of feet, so much so that Seunghyun accidentally knocks into a Goblin, who turns around at him spitting fury. Both Youngbae and Seungri pull out their wands in response, squaring up in defence of Seunghyun even though they still aren’t allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts. Luckily for all involved, the creature just shakes his head and stalks off.

 

“What I was going to say, before we were _rudely interrupted,_ ” Seungri says, throwing the last two words in the direction of the Goblin. “Was that you two are welcome to come to my family’s New Years Eve bash, if you want.”

 

“Both of us?” Youngbae asks. Only just then does he slide his wand back into his pocket, turning to give his full attention to Seungri. “Are you sure?”

 

They both share a look, one that Seunghyun doesn’t understand.

 

“It will be fine.” Seungri says, looking directly at Youngbae. Seunghyun has a feeling that he’s meant to be excluded from this conversation. “Anyway, I need to go to Gringotts. You guys want to come, or shall I meet you later?”

 

“I need to go to the bank too, actually.” Youngbae answers. They both look towards Seunghyun, who definitely doesn’t need to go to the bank. Unlike his friends, money is hard to come by in knuts and sickles. So he tells them he’ll just hover about in the street instead, not wanting to encounter any more Goblins than is absolutely necessary. He watches them go off down the street, then turns his eyes to the shops in front of him. There’s nothing he can bear to window shop in, so makes his way down the street. There must be something about him that says vulnerable and susceptible to marketing techniques, because every street vendor tries to pull him over. Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t have Youngbae looking burly besides him, but he has to keep his gaze fixed on the cobblestones to avoid their attempts to lure him away from his money.

 

It works until a hand falls on his shoulder. He tries to shake it off, startled, but it has a surprisingly strong grip on him. It’s especially surprising when he sees that it belongs to a frail old woman, hunched over in shawls and beads that look heavy enough to drag her into the ground.

 

“Let me show you your future, boy.” She says, motioning down some steps. That is the last place Seunghyun wants to go right now, but he’s never good at saying no in the best of times. Reluctantly, she manages to take him down the stairs. He didn’t even know these buildings had basements, but once down there he can see why he didn’t. Cracks line the walls and raggedy wallpaper clings on for dear life. Everything about it screams sketchy, but he finds himself sitting down at a table anyway. There’s crystal orb in between them and incense threatening to set off his sensitive nose as she looks down at him through the crystal, distorting her face as the ball is filled by mist.

 

“There’s someone you like.” She begins. Seunghyun has to fight with himself to stop his eyes rolling; could she be anymore generic? He’s always had a hard time believing in this kind of stuff in the first place, and her showmanship is doing neither of them any favours. Even if he lets on to his reservations, she carries on anyway. “Oh you _really_ like them.”

 

There’s a pause, during which her face changes into one of reproach.

 

“Watch out for this one. I see trouble coming your way.”

 

There’s a sense of foreboding as she speaks, and she leans back. She’s got him there. Jiyong _is_ trouble, he knows that. And, despite his scepticism, he can’t help but ask for more.

 

“Could you be more specific, maybe?” He asks. His polite request falls on deaf ears as a sour look comes over her face.

 

“That will be 12 sickles, please.” The woman simply says, folding her hands over each other. Seunghyun sighs inwardly.

 

“You hardly told me anything.” He protests. She shakes her head in response.

 

“I can only tell you what I see. This is all I see.”

 

Reluctantly, he pays up. Digging around at the bottom of his bag for stray sickles, having to hand over coins covered in fluff and crumbs. When he climbs the stairs back out onto the street he’s struck by the sunlight, but it doesn’t take him long to become accustomed to it again and spot Youngbae and Seungri. He fills them in immediately about where he’s been, launching into a tirade against the woman and her scams. Seungri’s mouth is wide open, and it’s only then that Seunghyun remembers that the other boy knows nothing about his current love interest. 

 

“I knew you liked someone!” He exclaims. “Who is it?”

 

“Do you want me to punch him, Seunghyun?” Youngbae interjects.

 

“Jiyong. I like Jiyong.” Seunghyun confesses. His mouth then starts to run away without him, afraid of what Seungri’s going to say next. “We like each other, I guess. Or did until he left Hogwarts. I don’t know.”

 

He needn’t have worried, though.

 

“You know, didn’t I tell you that I knew Seunghyun was gay, Youngbae?” Seungri says. Seunghyun is about to interrupt him, tell him that there’s no way he could have actually _known_ , but Youngbae takes the words right out of his mouth.

 

“You didn’t _know_ anything, Seungri.” Youngbae stresses. The youngest of them shrugs, putting his mittens back in his pockets.

 

“Whatever.” Seungri mutters. “Well, Jiyong should be at our party on New Years Eve.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After an excruciating Christmas day, boxing day and everything in between, on New Years Eve he finds himself once again crouching inside their fireplace. He’ll always be grateful they have a fireplace; it provides his one lifeline to the rest of his world. But if he goes through another growth spurt before he leaves Hogwarts then he might just be stuck in this house for good. He’s careful not to get soot on his nice – usually reserved for church – clothes (Youngbae stressed that if Seungri’s family were there then it was going to be formal attire from head to toe)  as he drops the floo powder from his hand.

 

“ _Blenheim Manor._ ” He whispers, still finding it hard to believe that Seungri lives in a stately home _._ It’s already making him feel woefully inadequate, and he hasn’t even seen the house yet. Flames burst up around him, and in a split second he’s tumbling out of another fireplace. This one is large and marble, and once he orientates himself he becomes aware that the rest of the house also puts his to shame. It’s already a surreal evening; the manor is dark and gothic, everything he’d imagined of a Slytherin family, and when a servant approaches him to take his coat it takes him aback. Faint laughter and conversation is coming from the other rooms and he follows the sound, trying to find someone he can latch onto for the night. Someone other than Jiyong, preferably. The thought of seeing him again is both exciting and excruciating; that was his first kiss, he has no idea what’s supposed to happen next or how he’s meant to act.

 

The first room with people in that he finds is the kitchen, but he immediately regrets it. They’re all wearing dress robes, something Seunghyun, coming from a muggle family, never does outside of Hogwarts. He sticks out like a sore thumb, despite the relative conservativeness of his attire. It shouldn’t be a big deal; no one even gives him a second glance. But it’s thrown him off kilter, reminds him once again that he doesn’t really fit in. Luckily, before he can spiral down into a panic Seungri appears at his side.

 

“You came!” He says, holding a glass of pumpkin juice out for Seunghyun. “I’ve added something.” Seungri winks, passing it over. Seunghyun takes a discrete sniff and, true to his words, it doesn’t just smell like pumpkin juice. He has his reservations, but everything about tonight is quickly becoming daunting and he decides he could use all the help he can get. Seungri takes a step back, taking in Seunghyun’s clothing.

 

“Did I not tell you about the dress code?” He asks.

 

“No…Youngbae told me. I just forgot that formal for Wizards is different to Muggles’.” He forces a laugh. Thankfully Seungri doesn’t press it further.

 

“No worries.” He says. “I’ve left Jiyong in a corner somewhere, wanna come find him with me?”

 

Seunghyun isn’t sure that he does; awful visions of him stuttering and sweating come to mind when he thinks about trying to talk to Jiyong again. But he downs the pumpkin juice in his hand and follows Seungri anyway. The manor is impeccably decorated, showcasing just how much money Seungri’s family has, and like Seungri said; they find Jiyong in a corner, clutching a glass of pumpkin juice. Youngbae is standing there with him, and as they approach it becomes clear that the conversation is painfully awkward.

 

“Seunghyun!” They both exclaim. Seunghyun doesn’t know who to acknowledge first, and ends up saying nothing. Youngbae sighs.

 

“Seungri, can you show me the drinks again please?” He asks. Alarm bells ring off in Seunghyun’s head; he’s about to be left alone with Jiyong. Youngbae knows exactly what he’s doing, and flashes a small smirk at Seunghyun before heading off with Seungri.

 

“Hi.” Jiyong says, softly. Even he is in dress robes, albeit with tattoos still peeking through the material. His hair is neither green or red; the two colours he’s become accustomed to seeing Jiyong in. Rather it is a mixture of both, green cut through with red streaks. For the first time since meeting him, Seunghyun can say that Jiyong looks terrible.

 

“Your hair…” He begins to say, faltering once he sees Jiyong’s face.

 

“It’s for Christmas. Don’t you like it?” He asks, wounded. Seunghyun hurriedly tries to dig himself out of his hole, but stops once he sees Jiyong’s expression change into a grin. “Relax. I know it’s awful. But my dad hates it too, and that’s the most important thing here.”

 

“Is it?” Seunghyun asks. He’s never understood the need to rile people up, the need that  Jiyong seems to relish.

 

“Alright. You don’t believe me, so we’re going to go meet my dad.” Jiyong says, determinedly.

 

“Oh, I- Does he know about us?” Seunghyun asks, before he can stop himself. It feels like time stops altogether, and he shuts his eyes tight. _Us._ Why the hell did he have to say that?

 

“Us? Tell me, what is ‘us’?” There’s a smirk on Jiyong’s lips. When Seunghyun doesn’t answer he ignores the question. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” He heads off, clearly expecting Seunghyun to follow. _You’re cute when you’re flustered._ Seunghyun doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He follows Jiyong anyway, weaving their way in between clusters of witches and wizards. Heads turn towards Jiyong, but the other boy doesn’t give anyone the satisfaction of looking back at them. Slowly, he comes to a halt at a group of tall wizards.

 

“Dad,” He calls out. One of the men turns around, and despite the hair and the age he looks remarkably like Jiyong. He looks unimpressed to see Jiyong there, and it makes Seunghyun squirm in discomfort.

 

“Jiyong?” He prompts.

 

“This is Seunghyun, he’s the guy who was mentoring me this year.”

 

Everyone’s gaze turns to Seunghyun. If he was feeling uncomfortable before, it was nothing compared to now. Jiyong’s father looks as if he’s about to say something, but one of the others gets to it first.

 

“Muggleborn?”

 

Seunghyun is stumped. He knows that a prejudice towards Muggleborns still exists, but this is the first time he’s come across it. Now Youngbae’s reservations towards him coming tonight make more sense.

 

“I…yeah.” He says, slowly. Unsure of where the conversation is going to go next, he looks to Jiyong. The other boy looks sombre, now. He didn’t intend for this to happen. Thankfully the man just turns back around, resuming the conversation with his colleagues. But the look on his face, the entire exchange really, leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Seunghyun turns away, ignoring Jiyong. He doesn’t know where he’s going; lets his feet carry him out of the room, ending up in a quiet hallway. The door he came from creaks open again, and he turns his head to see Jiyong also slipping into the hallway. There’s a loud crash as the other boy bumps into a suit of armour, followed by a nervous giggle.

 

“I’m sorry, I had no idea that would happen.” Jiyong says. Everything about him is apologetic, from the look on his face to the way he stands hesitantly at the doorway. The physic’s words come back to Seunghyun’s mind since the first time he heard them. _Watch out for this one._ He pushes the thought away.

 

“It’s fine.” Seunghyun says. It’s not fine, but Jiyong doesn’t need to know that.

 

“You don’t hate me, do you?” Jiyong asks, timidly. It almost makes Seunghyun laugh, how could he hate Jiyong?

 

“No. It really is fine.”

 

There’s a pause before Jiyong speaks again.

 

“Well, would you look at that.” Jiyong says, softly. He points above Seunghyun’s head, who follows his gaze. Mistletoe slowly grows from the ceiling above them, winding down towards Seunghyun’s hair. He has no doubt that this is Jiyong’s doing, and in the moonlight streaming in from the window Seunghyun can see that Jiyong’s hair has changed to a soft white, matching the white berries on the leaves. His breath catches, and he swallows hard.

 

“Are we not supposed to wait until New Years to kiss?” He whispers. Jiyong has already moved closer to him, hips inches apart.

 

“We can do that too.” Jiyong whispers back. Seunghyun’s mind goes blank as Jiyong stretches his toes, reaching Seunghyun’s height and placing a soft kiss on his lips. And then as soon as it begun, it’s over. It leaves Seunghyun wanting so much more, and Jiyong seems to know this, with a smug grin on his face.

 

“You get another one at New Years.” He says, teasingly. “Now, I think Youngbae might kill me if I keep you away from him any longer.”


	4. Chapter 4

_3._

Everyone’s voices ring out into the night air.

_2._

Jiyong steps closer to him.

_1._

His lips are on Seunghyun’s again. He briefly registers a collective _‘happy new year!’_ from everyone else in the garden, but once he feels Jiyong’s hands in his hair he can focus on nothing else. Jiyong’s hands tug gently against his hair, and at the bang of the first fireworks he hears the other boy’s breath hitch. He doesn’t stop, though, pressing his body closer and closer into Seunghyun’s as more and more fireworks light up the sky.

 

On his part, Seunghyun can scarcely believe his luck, not only has he kissed Jiyong once tonight, but _twice._ He’s blind to time passing around them, but eventually the fireworks come to a halt. Jiyong’s fingers are still delicately gripping his hips, soft lips still pressed against his own. This kiss is lasting a lot longer than before, and Seunghyun opens his eyes in surprise. He’s reached the limits of his kissing technique (a technique that he may or may not have picked up from reading his sisters’ _Teen Vogue_ magazine), but he’s not complaining. Wishes he’d always had his eyes open, in fact, seeing every eyelash, every pore, every curve and indent, decorating Jiyong’s face.

 

They made an effort to go somewhere discrete before the countdown, but that doesn’t stop them being disturbed as people eventually start to file back into the house. Jiyong pulls away before anyone can spot them, and for the first time since meeting him Seunghyun sees him flustered. There’s a blush creeping up on his cheeks, just about visible in the moonlight, as he bites his lip, looking up at Seunghyun from underneath his lashes.

 

“Didn’t want to stop.” He confesses, scuffing his foot against the dirt. As usual, Seunghyun is speechless. But this time it’s for different reasons; the tables have turned, he’s watching Jiyong become the stuttering mess that he usually is in these situations. That doesn’t last for long, though, as Jiyong quickly composes himself. Straightening his shirt and quickly running a hand through his hair, his eyes are focused on someone behind Seunghyun. He coughs, nodding to that someone. “Alright?” He asks, and Seunghyun looks around to follow his gaze. He’s greeted by the tall form of Jiyong’s dad, who looks unimpressed to say the least.

 

“You’ve got another hour, then we’re off home.” He states, inviting no negotiation.

 

“Sure.” Jiyong answers, shortly. They share a look that Seunghyun can’t decipher, but then his father simply starts to make his way back into the house.

 

“Do you think he saw?” Seunghyun whispers, not sure what this would mean for Jiyong. If it were his parents who caught them, well, it’s not even worth thinking about. But Jiyong just shrugs.

 

“He knows which team I fly for. That’s the least of his problems, anyway.” His lips quirk up with the last sentence, and he dips his head towards the house. Seunghyun follows his direction, joining the stream of witches and wizards all filing back into the manor now the outside attractions have finished.

 

Once inside, Seungri’s voice quickly carries over to them and they follow the sound. He’s stood with Youngbae, and a pair of witches that Seunghyun has never seen at Hogwarts before.

 

“ _They’re from Beauxbatons._ ” Seungri leans over to whisper once they join the group. A sly grin appears on his face, and he raises his eyebrows pointedly as he informs Jiyong and Seunghyun; “ _Half Veelas, both of them._ ”. It explains why Youngbae is looking so enthralled by the girls to his left, why he didn’t even bat an eyelid when Seunghyun came over with flushed cheeks and red lips.

 

They make an attempt to participate in the conversation, but Seunghyun quickly realises that they’re out of place. The girls’ charms have no effect on either of them, and they clearly aren’t used to having this kind of response from people with a Y-chromosome. Jiyong’s jokes earn them haughty looks – from the girls _and_ Youngbae and Seungri – and Seunghyun’s own lack of interest finds his gaze wandering and wandering around the room. On more than one occasion he catches Jiyong’s father’s eyes, staring intently at the pair of them. Which is why, when he feels a discrete tug on his sleeve from Jiyong, he’s more than grateful.

 

“You wanna go get another drink?” He whispers. “I was worried about Youngbae hating me for stealing you away tonight, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to miss you much, right now.”

 

Seunghyun _wants_ to say that Youngbae can be damned, that Jiyong can steal him away for the rest of his life. He’s acutely aware, though, that it may be Seungri’s suspicious pumpkin juice talking.

 

“Yep.” He says instead. And they weave their way around clusters and groups, avoiding splashing drinks and drunk witches trying to show off the latest charms they’ve learnt, making it into the kitchen again. It’s empty apart from several House Elves, already starting to tidy the place up. Dishes and wine glasses float through the air and food disappears with a click of their fingers as they move around the room, undisturbed by the pair of them.

 

Seunghyun breathes in and out deeply, glad to be away from the crowds. Jiyong, for his part, lets out a big breath as he hikes himself up to sit on a kitchen counter.

 

“This is probably going to be the last night we see each other, for a while.” He says, once he’s got himself settles. A big pout sits on his face. Seunghyun’s stomach clenches in response. This night has been _perfect_ , and he’s dreading that it has to end.

 

“We can write.” He says. Then, thinking that he may have overstepped (they’re barely anything, for God’s sake), he rushes to cover up what he said. “That is, I mean – we don’t have to. That might be too much?”

 

Jiyong is smirking, watching Seunghyun verbally trip over his own feet.

 

“I would _love_ to write to you.” He says, with full sincerity. In a heartbeat he seems rueful, though. “But my Dad’s not letting me send post at the moment.” He says, rubbing a hand at his neck.

 

“Oh.” Seunghyun sighs, dejectedly. A thought quickly strikes him; “Do you have a phone? We can text!”

 

“A phone? The things muggles use?” Jiyong asks, slowly.

 

“I – yeah. You don’t have one? I thought your mum was muggle born?” Seunghyun asks back, confused.

 

“It’s complicated.” Jiyong shrugs. A look has come over his face, but as soon as it arrived it’s gone again. “I don’t have a phone.”

 

“Well,” Seunghyun starts, rummaging in his pockets. This is completely irrational and impulsive, two things that he rarely associates with. But it’s happening. “Take mine.” He says, handing over his beaten up old iPhone. Jiyong looks at it if it were brand new, turning it gently in his hands.

 

“Oh, no I –“ He goes to protest, but Seunghyun interrupts.

 

“It’s fine! I need a new one anyway, this one only has my parent’s numbers on it, anyway.” He says earnestly. “Seriously. Take it and I’ll message once I get a new one.” He says, as Jiyong still looks doubtful. There’s a brief pause, but Jiyong eventually smiles.

 

“You’re gonna have to show me how to use it though, I’m afraid.” He admits, handing the phone back to Seunghyun. It offers Seunghyun the perfect excuse to move closer to the other boy, and he tries to be discrete about the way his breath hitches a little when they eventually touch. Jiyong leans his chin on Seunghyun’s shoulder, and the latter has to remind himself to keep breathing.

 

“So to unlock it, you do this.” He says, swiping his thumb against the screen. It comes up with a picture of him and his parents, and without looking around he can feel Jiyong’s face break into a smile.

 

“Cute.” He lets out a small laugh, and the air hits Seunghyun’s neck.

 

“To send a text you go to this icon, select your contact and then use this keyboard to type. Once you’re done, just press send.” Seunghyun carries on, giving Jiyong a demonstration by sending a quick text to his mum. There’s silence behind him, and he looks around to check whether Jiyong understood. His mouth his slightly agape, though, and his brows furrowed into a frown.

 

“So that went to your mum?” He asks.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“…How?” Jiyong asks, taking the phone from Seunghyun. He turns it around in his hands, looking for an explanation. “What spell was that?”

 

“It’s not a spell, this is muggle stuff.” Seunghyun answers. “Technology. Sound waves. Radio waves. I don’t know. Waves.” He carries on, moving his hands to demonstrate his point. Luckily, Jiyong seems to buy his inadequate explanation.

 

“I’ve missed out.”

 

“Yeah –“ Seunghyun starts to laugh, but they’re interrupted by another voice.

 

“Jiyong.” Jiyong’s father says, abruptly. Standing next to the House Elves he looks like a giant, and Seunghyun tries very hard not to feel intimidated by him. “Say goodbye to your friends, we’re leaving in 5.”

 

As soon as he came, he’s gone again. Jiyong sighs, lifting his chin from Seunghyun’s shoulders. He slips the phone into his pocket and slides off the kitchen counter top. They’re standing opposite each other now, and Seunghyun hesitates. Do they kiss goodbye? Do they shake hands? Instinctively his hand begins to make an awkward wave, but thankfully Jiyong takes charge of the situation.

 

“Lets talk soon.” Wrapping his arms around Seunghyun, he murmurs into his shoulder. Seunghyun feels the vibration of Jiyong’s vocal chords, and doesn’t want to let him go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes about a week before he manages to get a new phone, finally convincing his cousin to give him a second (maybe even third) hand phone for £50 (an absolute rip off, and most of his Christmas money gone). Thankfully he gets it done just before he has to leave for the new term, again dodging questions from his cousins about why he’s the _only_ one in their family who has to go to a special boarding school.

 

 Once it’s in his hand, he sends off a text without hesitation (having spent the past several days drafting and redrafting the text inside his own head).

 

Seunghyun: got a new phone, finally!

 

He stares at the phone, watching the message come up as _delivered._ A few seconds pass, and although he wasn’t _expecting_ a fast response per say, he’s still let down when his phone doesn’t buzz back straight away.

 

The entirety of his last day at home is spent staring longingly at the screen, to the point where his sister even catches on.

 

“Who are you waiting to hear from? The only people who text you are here now.” She asks, a quizzical eyebrow raised. Before he can even begin to think about an appropriate answer, she’s jumping to her own conclusion. A gleeful look comes upon her face as she asks; “Do you have a girlfriend?”. All eyes at the dinner table turn towards him at that. His dad’s fork hovers half way to his mouth, and his mum rests her own cutlery on her plate.

 

“Does she know about your – your _thing_?” His mum asks, raising her eyebrows now. By _thing_ , it’s safe to assume that she means magic. And not the fact that his romantic, sexual, and all other forms of attractions are firmly situated with the same sex. Which she doesn’t know about (and if possible, will _never_ know about). Seunghyun chews his food slowly (they don’t talk with their mouths full in his house), giving him time to think about the right response. Every possible route seems to lead to an undesirable outcome, though.

 

“Not my girlfriend.” He says, swallowing.

 

“But you want her to be?” His sister jumps in.

 

“I…” Seunghyun trails off. He feels bad lying to his parents, he really does. But he’s just stretching the truth, right? “Sure.” He shrugs. No one needs to know about the proper pronouns, anyway.

 

Thankfully, their interrogation ends after they realise that that’s about as much as they’re going to get out of him. And after a hug from both of his parents - he doesn’t miss the look they exchange, one that says _we have things to talk_ about - he leaves later that evening through the fireplace, squeezed in next to his small suitcase (thank God for Youngbae’s enlargement charms). Neither of them are in the room to see him off, likely still harbouring a deep down belief that the floo network is the work of the devil, so he checks his phone once more before dropping his powder. Still no messages, though, and he throws the powder down slightly more aggressively than intended.

 

He tumbles out at the other end into the Three Broomsticks, earning disgruntled glances and complaints from the patrons. He faintly hears someone mutter _bloody students_ before picking himself up and dusting himself down.

 

Despite knowing that the result is still going to be the same, he checks his phone one last time before picking up his suitcase. Again, his messages are completely empty. It makes the walk back to Hogwarts, trudging through the snow with his suitcase held in his arms, all the more depressing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not until a full three days later that Jiyong finally messages back. By which time, Seunghyun has just about given up all hope and almost chokes on his pumpkin juice when his phone buzzes that morning. The bench vibrates from the phone in his back pocket, and Youngbae looks up from his cereal, stunned.

 

“Did you fart?” He asks. The kids around them start to giggle, and Seunghyun takes the opportunity to kick Youngbae underneath the table.

 

“ _No._ ” He hisses, a sneer on his face. “It was my phone.” He whispers. Phones aren’t explicitly forbidden at Hogwarts, but it’s one more sign that Seunghyun is different from everyone else at the bench.

 

“Ah. Your mum?”

 

“I hope not.” Seunghyun glances around to check who might be listening. “I’m waiting to hear from Jiyong.”

 

Immediately Youngbae’s face changes into a familiar look of exasperation, one that Seunghyun is sadly coming to associate with any mention of Jiyong’s name. Instead of saying anything though, this time he simply rolls his eyes.

 

“I need to go get my books before charms. See you in class?” He says, swiftly changing the subject.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Seunghyun mutters. This response from Youngbae is better than the alternative, he supposes. He can deal with grumpy and silent.

 

There’s not much time to dwell on that, though, as shortly after his friend’s departure the food on the table also disappears. Joining the throng of students filing out of the hall, he decides to quickly nip into the toilets before going to his first class.

 

There’s a small queue of first years, and he skips them all with an intimidating look. He doesn’t even feel guilty; if he doesn’t check his phone as soon as possible, he might just implode.

 

 

Jiyong: hi! sorry i took so long!

 

Jiyong: couldn’t remember how to unlock the phone, _alohomora_ didn’t even work. Had to ask my sister’s boyfriend who gave me a ‘power bank’

 

 

His phone screen reads, once he finally shuts himself in a cubicle and whips out his phone. He stifles a laugh, more out of relief than anything else. Relief that Jiyong hasn’t changed his mind, or that he hasn’t decided to go against his flirty nature and play hard to get.

 

Seunghyun checks the time; he still has 3 minutes before he needs to get to class. If he runs, he has time to send a quick message first. It requires a lot more deliberation than he planned, though. Does he go for a kiss at the end - will Jiyong even know what an ‘x’ stands for? More importantly,  do people his age even send ‘x’s in texts anymore, or is he just showing Jiyong how out of touch he is? He ends up opting for a smiley face, deciding that there’s no possible way Jiyong can misunderstand it.

 

 

Seunghyun: hi! How are you? :)

 

 

He sends off, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He now has one minute until class starts. If he sprints then he might just avoid loosing further points for Ravenclaw this year.

 

But he might as well have given it a miss altogether, it’s hard to focus on the class. The rest of the day follows much the same, and that evening he takes the chance to disregard the mountain of homework that’s already building up, flopping onto his bed in the empty dorm instead. There’s three more texts from Jiyong once he turns his phone back on, and he checks them without hesitation.

 

 

Jiyong: bored

 

Jiyong: how are you?

 

Jiyong: how is Daesung too

 

 

Seunghyun frowns slightly, but texts back regardless.

 

 

Seunghyun: im good, daesung too I guess? He never really sits with us when you’re not there.

 

 

This time Jiyong texts back straight away.

 

 

Jiyong: I was worried about that.

 

Jiyong: can I ask a favour??

 

Seunghyun: sure

 

Jiyong: can you go talk to him every now and again? Keep him company?

 

Jiyong: im his only friend here, worried he’s gonna be lonely

 

Jiyong: you and youngbae are nice, take him under your lovely, studious wings

 

Jiyong: well, you’re nice

 

Jiyong: Youngbae is…prickly

 

 

Seunghyun ignores that message. His first instinct is to defend his friend, but he can see where Jiyong is coming from.

 

Jiyong favours rapid, sort messages, and Seunghyun’s phone vibrates constantly in his hand as he watches them come through. It gives him time to think, mainly about _what on earth_ is Jiyong thinking. Has Jiyong not been paying any attention to him over the past few months? Because if he had, he would be fully aware that Seunghyun is awkward, shy, and awkward again.

 

 

Jiyong: you can find him in the prefects bathroom every Sunday afternoon

 

Jiyong: please

 

Jiyong: you cant see me right now, but im batting my eyelashes

 

 

Finally there’s a break in the messages, and Seunghyun reluctantly imagines Jiyong batting his eyelashes at him. It almost breaks his resolve. Almost.

 

 

Seunghyun: you’re forgetting that im not you, im awkward. I cant make friends at the drop of a hat

 

 

Three dots come up to show that Jiyong is typing, and stay there for what feels like an eternity. He must have rewritten the message several times, but eventually it comes through.

 

 

Jiyong: please. you and daesung are the only people in Hogwarts that can stand me for more than five minutes

 

Jiyong: please do this for me :(

 

 

Seunghyun sighs out loud. Whilst he may not have the strongest will power in the world, it seems that Jiyong removes it entirely.

 

 

Seunghyun: fine

 

 

He sends, hoping that his short answer conveys his reluctance.

 

 

Seunghyun: how do I get into the prefects bathroom

 

Jiyong: the password is oak sweet

 

Jiyong: god, I love you so much for this. Thank you.

 

 

Jiyong sends. And thank god they’re only texting, because Seunghyun’s heart stops once he reads the last message.

 

_I love you._

 

Selective perception; he ignores the last four letters attached to that sentence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes a couple of weeks – deadlines and anxiety get in the way – before Seunghyun finally fulfils his promise to Jiyong. He doesn’t even need a bath, having showered just a few hours prior, which only adds to how ridiculous he feels right now. Regardless, he finds himself clutching his towel as he walks up the lonely staircase as discretely as possible because he’s keenly aware that he’s not supposed to be here. The portraits hanging on the walls echo his sentiments, shooting narrow glances his way.

 

“ _Oak sweet._ ” He whispers, reaching the wooden door that Jiyong had told him to look out for. It opens into steam, and Seunghyun steps in cautiously. The door shuts behind him immediately, with a loud bang that almost makes him jump out of his skin. He’s becoming accustomed to his surroundings, ascertaining that he’s truly alone, when he hears a loud giggle to his left.

 

Spinning around, he comes face to face with a girl. Or rather the ghost of a girl, he realises once looking straight through her to the wall behind. Large glasses frame her face and her hair is up in two pony tails; it doesn’t take long for him to work out who she is. Her stories are famous around the school.

 

“Never seen you here before.” She says, smiling. Her voice is high pitched and churlish, Seunghyun is already sick of it.

 

“Hi, Myrtle.”

 

“How do you know my name?” She asks, frowning. He isn’t given time to answer though, as she carries on. “Silly. Everyone knows _Moaning Myrtle._ ” She goes on to say, petulantly and with a look on her face that says he’s in trouble.

 

“I don’t think you should be here.” She says, defiantly. Seunghyun gulps; he’s heard plenty of horror stories from other students.

 

“I’m just meeting a friend.” He says, going to move past her into the changing rooms to the side. Myrtle has other ideas, though, and moves straight through him. A strange feeling comes over him and he shudders in response, once more coming face to face with the ghost.

 

“I should report you.” She says, standing in between Seunghyun and the changing rooms. Seunghyun is frozen on the spot; he doesn’t want to walk through her again, nor does he appreciate the threat. Luckily, her mood quickly changes. “But you’re cute enough. So I’ll let you stay.” She says, with a giggle. Just like that she’s gone, and relief washes over Seunghyun. It doesn’t last for long, though, as he becomes slightly paranoid that she’s still there watching him.

 

He undresses as quickly as possible, walking back out to the bathrooms with a towel tight around his waist. Then he’s confronted with another problem; staring at a vast empty tub with no idea how to fill it.

 

“ _Aguamenti._ ” He whispers. Water splutters out of his wand, and he hears a laugh from behind. This time, thank God, it’s just Daesung.

 

“There are taps, you know.” He says, smirking. Seunghyun watches as Daesung moves past him, reaching down to turn the taps. “You want bubbles?”

 

“Yeah, please.” Seunghyun answers. He’s already clamming up; short for words to say and painfully aware of just how bad he is at making friends. Daesung fulfils his request, and quickly the huge bath tub fills up. It’s a cavernous space, but that doesn’t make it any less awkward that he’s about to share a bath with a boy he barely knows.

 

“Jiyong give you the password?” Daesung asks, and Seunghyun nods in response. Daesung scoffs. “Never should’ve given that boy the password. He’s nothing but trouble.”

 

Seunghyun gives a little laugh, and then the air falls flat.

 

“I’m going to get changed.” Daesung says, excusing himself. Once he’s is firmly locked away in the changing room, Seunghyun takes the opportunity to unwrap the towel from his waist and quickly steps into the water, cautious that – knowing his luck – Myrtle would choose this exact moment to come back. The water is the perfect temperature for him – sometimes Seunghyun really loves magic – but he doesn’t get long to appreciate it as Daesung is already making his way back over to the tub. Seunghyun’s mind begins to spin with possible conversation starters, but he stops short once he sees what Daesung’s wearing.

 

_Shorts._

Seunghyun had no idea they were supposed to cover up.

 

Daesung must see the look of panic on his face, and where is gaze is directed, because he just laughs in Seunghyun’s face.

 

“We’re not supposed to wear shorts. I just get a little shy.” He says, gingerly stepping into pool. That’s perhaps worse for Seunghyun to hear; the idea that he’s inconvenienced Daesung.

 

“Oh, I’m –“ He starts to say _sorry_ , but Daesung interrupts him.

 

“It’s fine. You had no idea I would be here.”

 

Seunghyun has to bite his lip to stop himself from telling Daesung that he knew _exactly_ where he would be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By some divine intervention, Jiyong’s plan actually works. They have a lot of things in common, and bond over both being muggle born and painfully awkward. Daesung begins to make himself a regular fixture at their bench in the Great Hall, and even Youngbae quickly warms up to him. Especially so after Daesung’s offer to help Seunghyun in charms.

 

The offer comes one evening as Seunghyun is considering dropping out altogether. This isn’t unusual for him, but he’s never taken it so seriously before. Even Youngbae is taking it seriously, and his phone has been buzzing with concerned messages from Jiyong all day. _40 marks._ He now needs to do so well in his upcoming exams that the pressure is already threatening to break him.

 

“I got a 98 in charms.” Daesung says. It earns him a glare from Youngbae, and tears start to prick at Seunghyun’s eyes.

 

“ _Daesung._ ” Youngbae hisses.

 

“No, I mean I can tutor you.” He says, clearing up the misunderstanding. This is the last thing Seunghyun wants, to be tutored by someone _younger_ than him. And he tells Daesung just as much.

 

“You’re a whole year below me. I’m fine.”

 

“You’re clearly not fine.” Daesung retorts. “Why not just give it a go? What’s the worst that can happen?”

 

Seunghyun purses his lips. But Daesung doesn’t back down, and eventually Youngbae joins in too.   

 

“I’ll think about it.” Seunghyun concedes.

 

And he does think about it, but every thought comes back to the same conclusion; _no_. Youngbae spends the whole evening trying to convince him to take up the offer, but Seunghyun’s resolve holds strong.

 

That is, until he finally talks to Jiyong about it.

 

 

Seunghyun: is Daesung any good at charms?

 

 

His text reads, once he’s finally shut himself away in the dormitory, far away from Youngbae’s nagging.

 

 

Jiyong: literally the best

 

Seunghyun: he says he can help me

 

Seunghyun: but im a bit embarrassed

 

Jiyong: you care too much about what people think

 

Jiyong: I hate seeing you stress like this :( take his offer up!

 

Jiyong: live a little!

 

Seunghyun: this is your definition of living?

 

Jiyong: go away

 

 

All it took was a sad face for Jiyong to convince him ( _it’s not healthy how easily he can be swayed by the other boy,_ a voice in the back of his mind says). But Seunghyun is ready to leave it at that. It’s already 10pm, and if he doesn’t want to end up crying in potions tomorrow he needs to get a decent night’s sleep. Jiyong has other plans, though.

 

 

Jiyong: come back I was just joking

 

 

Comes up on his phone screen. Seunghyun imagines Jiyong’s pout as he was typing, and abandons all plans of sleep straight away. They’ve been texting for several weeks now, but Seunghyun’s heart still flutters when another one comes through. It sucks, not having Jiyong in front of him, but at least the letters on the screen wont make fun of how red he gets with every compliment, how often he unconsciously lets out a wide smile at his phone.

 

Eventually he’s interrupted by Youngbae, who shoots him a look once he sits down on his bed.

 

“Jiyong, again?” He asks with a sigh.

 

“Yeah.” Seunghyun answers. “Don’t give me that look, you’ll like him once you get to know him.”

 

“Do you really know him, yet?” Youngbae asks. He asks it gently, and with none of the bitterness that Seunghyun has come to experience from him in the past few weeks. But the question still doesn’t leave him for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Their tutoring sessions commence soon after that, every Thursday evening in the library. Seunghyun would never usually be seen in the library; the silence and the atmosphere always prove a little too intense for him. But Daesung, it turns out, isn’t one to listen to any of his grumbling. Nor does he put up with any complaints Seunghyun may have about the lessons; he’s quickly shot down when he argues that he’ll never in a million years need to know how to conjure a flock of birds.

 

So Daesung keeps them on track, while Seunghyun does everything he can to make them stray from the topic of charms. One day, in between _confundo_ and _depulso,_ he manages to work their way onto the topic of parents. Seunghyun knows very little about Daesung, a boy who always seems to keep his cards clutched tightly to his chest. But once he lets slip that he’s muggle born just like Seunghyun, he pounces.

 

It’s rare for him to talk to people at Hogwarts, let alone have those people come from a similar background as him. Youngbae is great, but there’s a lot he doesn’t understand and takes for granted. Daesung, on the other hand, turns out to have _accountants_ for parents _._ The most boring, muggle job you could get. And Seunghyun loves it.

 

“How did they handle the wizard thing?” He asks, gently prying Daesung open bit by bit.

 

“Not that well.” He replies. Before Seunghyun can probe further, though, Daesung is flipping the conversation round onto Seunghyun. “So what do your parents do?” He asks. Wordlessly he lifts up a feather with his wand, playing with it in the air as he waits for Seunghyun’s answer. That’s another thing about Daesung that he likes; the lack of eye contact forced upon him.

 

“My dad is a doctor and my mum helps out on the PTA, church council, stuff like that.” Seunghyun answers, trying to take the feather away from Daesung. _Wingardium Leviosa,_ he whispers, and watches as the feather floats towards him instead. Daesung pouts.

 

“How did they take the wizard thing, then?” He asks with a smirk, as if he knows exactly what Seunghyun has been trying to do with his questions.

 

“Not well at all.” Seunghyun replies, with a small laugh.

 

“Parents fuck you up.” Daesung shrugs. “I’m glad Jiyong has you, now. His parents are a bit funny, too.”

 

 _Has you._ Seunghyun could stop and talk to Daesung about what that means for days. But he also wants to find out more about Jiyong. Youngbae’s dig at him the other night made him think, a _lot_. Despite knowing him for several months, now, Jiyong’s life largely remains a mystery to him. It seems that Daesung’s loose lips are the way to go, who seems to have no problem talking about Jiyong’s business.

 

“Oh?” Seunghyun asks, casually.

 

“Yeah, his mum has been sick for a long time. Mental stuff, you know? I think his dad has found it hard to accept that it’s something magic can’t fix.”

 

“Ah.” Seunghyun says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. There’s silence between them, and Daesung bites his lip; seemingly realising that he’s said a little too much.

 

Seunghyun doesn’t probe any further, nor does Daesung offer any more information after that. But it puts Jiyong’s behaviour, the trouble he gets into, in a new light. After that meeting every time a text comes through over the next couple of days, he’s very aware that he knows something Jiyong probably doesn’t want him to.

 

His prying gets even worse one morning when the post flies in. He gets nothing, and puts his head back down into his breakfast. But Daesung’s exclamation of surprise soon gets his attention.

 

“Jiyong sent a letter.” He says, breaking the seal and unfurling the paper. Jiyong’s messy handwriting is scrawled all over the parchment, and Seunghyun tries _really_ hard not to stare. All he wants is to find out more about Jiyong, is that a crime? He tears his gaze away anyway, but not before managing to catch one unfortunate sentence.

 

_How did his body look in the bath?_


	5. Chapter 5

A crackling fire. A quiet common room. A gallon of pumpkin juice in front of him. He has all he needs to study, and yet nothing is going in _._ A few years ago he had an MRI, and he’ll always be surprised that they actually found anything in there. Surprised that when teachers rap him on the head, a hollow sound doesn’t reverberate around the room.

 

It doesn’t help that Jiyong is on his mind 90% of the time. Having him on the other end of the phone is strange. Like he’s here, but then he’s not.

 

He’s broken from his thoughts when Youngbae flops down beside him. The sofa jumps up under his weight, and Seunghyun stifles a sigh.

 

“I need your help.” He says. That comes as a surprise. Not only is someone asking for his help, but _Youngbae_ is asking for his help.

 

“With what?” Seunghyun asks, hesitantly. His friend looks as apprehensive as he feels, as if he’s choosing his words very carefully.

 

“I’m asking Hyorin to the ball.” He admits, looking down at his fingernails. Seunghyun would _love_ to take the piss out of him right now, but he’s more confused by what his friend just said.

 

“There’s a ball?”

 

There’s a big pause - Youngbae looks at him as if he were from another planet.

 

“It’s…all everyone’s been talking about it for the past 3 weeks. Where have you been?” Youngbae asks, a frown on his face. Seunghyun shrugs in response. He’s not surprised he hasn’t heard anything about it; for the past few weeks his head has been firmly planted in his books, coming up for air only to talk to Jiyong. “They’re having a ball at the end of term, marks 20 years since the battle here.”

 

“Isn’t that a bit insensitive?” He asks. They pause, watching a first year stumble down the staircase from the dorms.

 

“It is what it is.” Youngbae says, eyes still on the first year. “You’re late for class.” He calls out, as the girl scurries past them. Her tie is wonky and her shirt is untucked; she reminds Seunghyun of himself.

 

“Why do you need my help?” Seunghyun asks, remembering years ago when the other boy would drag him out of bed for class, fix his tie and rub his shoes clean. But there’s no possible scenario in which he can imagine being of any assistance to Youngbae when it comes to asking Hyorin on a date. The most experience he has has come from Jiyong, but even then, he’s always let the other boy take the lead.

 

“I want to make it romantic.”

 

“But I have very little experience when it comes to romance.” He contends, looking back down at his notes in front of him. The words are starting to blur into one, and it isn’t even lunchtime yet.

 

“That doesn’t matter.” His friend insists. “She likes the greenhouses almost as much as you do, so I need your help to make it nice for her. Then I’m gonna ask her.”

 

“How do you know that she likes them?”

 

Youngbae doesn’t answer, but a blush on his cheeks starts to give him away.

 

“You followed her?” Seunghyun asks. He has visions of Youngbae crouching in rose bushes, ducking behind pumpkin patches, crawling along the outskirts of the forbidden forest, and weaving his way through the womping willow.

 

“Not _followed_.” Youngbae stresses, shattering Seunghyun’s illusions. “I’m, we’re…” He sighs, trailing off, but Seunghyun lets him know that he isn’t getting out of an explanation with a careful arch of his eyebrows. “I’ve asked her friends about what she likes.”

 

“And they said that she likes the greenhouse?” Seunghyun’s eyebrow raises further.

 

“So you’ll help me?” Youngbae asks, brushing off his question. There’s no time for Seunghyun to answer before Youngbae is jumping the gun with an offer. “I’ll do your potions essay for you.”

 

Seunghyun looks down at the parchment in front of him. The words on the page are less blurred now, more just one big unintelligible scribble. He has no hope.

 

“Sure.” He sighs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His friend takes him up on their agreement not long after their conversation, all but dragging Seunghyun across the grounds. The snow melted weeks ago, but the grass is still damp and dewy and he can feel the moisture seeping through to his socks. They’re lit only by the light of the castle behind them, and not just once does Seunghyun’s foot slip into a rabbit hole.

 

“This is ridiculous.” He mutters under his breath, shaking dirt from his foot for the umpteenth time.

 

“Hey, I did your essay, didn’t I?” Youngbae shoots back over his shoulder. Seunghyun doesn’t answer, gritting his teeth instead. The gamekeeper’s hut is still lit, and they both hold their breath as they creep past it. Once they’re at a safe distance away, Youngbae whispers _lumos_. “Once we’re in there, you have about 20 minutes before Hyorin comes.”

 

“Then I need you gone.” He says, threatening Seunghyun with the tip of his wand. Seunghyun puts his hands up in defence.

 

“It will be like I was never there.” He replies, trying to diffuse the bomb in front of him. “How did you get her to come here at this time of night? If I were her this would sound like the start of a horror film.”

 

“I got one of her friends to do it for me.” Through gritted teeth, Youngbae admits. “Now shut up.”

 

By some miracle, they make it to the greenhouse without Youngbae doing grievous harm to his body. Still, he doesn’t like this Youngbae very much, he decides as he’s practically shoved into the glass building. It’s the first time he’s been here in a while; choosing instead to focus on all the classes he’s failing instead. But it still feels like home; the comforting, earthy smell, the soft rustling from the mandrakes in the corner. It’s better than any massage, as the stress in his joints seems to melt right away.

 

Youngbae doesn’t seem to share the same feeling, glancing anxiously down at his watch.

 

“Right, so…fire away.”

 

Seunghyun looks at him blankly; he needs direction.

 

“No guidance? No strict, step by step instructions? No; ‘do what I say or die’ – Dong Youngbae, 2017?”

 

Youngbae closes his eyes in exasperation.

 

“I don’t know. Roses. Ivy. Whatever. I’ll do some lights.” He says, waving his wand. Sparks fly from it, and they both jump back. “Sorry, nervous.” He mutters, sheepishly.

 

Moving towards the other end of the greenhouse, Seunghyun leaves Youngbae and his over excited wand behind. He remembers being here with Jiyong, and a blush starts to creep up his cheeks. The phone in his pocket starts to weigh more as he thinks about who’s on the other end of it; they haven’t messaged in a while, and the voices in his head are starting to get paranoid. Does Jiyong still like him as much? Does he think about him everyday like Seunghyun does too?

 

But more than that, he misses their meetings. He misses the butterflies in his stomach as he crossed the grounds, the tingle down his spine when Jiyong would brush against him. Plants are positively boring, now. He dashes that thought away quickly, though.

 

Pulling out his wand, he gets to work. And by the end of it he has ivy draping down from the ceiling, roses crawling up their vines, and white petals scattered around the benches. He brought the snare vines to bud, the lilies to open up, and stuffed the ugliest of the mandrakes away beneath the benches. He imagines Jiyong standing next to him, what he’d say looking at the scene in front of them.

 

“This is some gay wizard shit.” He’d probably whisper.

 

Seunghyun’s chest starts to ache, just a little.

 

“That was quick.” Youngbae says. Seunghyun jumps, startled, and looks back at his friend. So engrossed in his own work, he hadn’t paid any attention to Youngbae’s endeavours on the other side of the room. But, looking up, it’s as if Youngbae himself has plucked the stars from the sky, moving them one by one into the greenhouse. They twinkle, light reflecting against the glass panelling, and gently cascade down the walls.

 

“Wow.” Seunghyun whispers. Youngbae looks down at his watch; the bewitched hands have given him a five minute warning and he nibbles at his lip nervously.

 

“You need to go.”

 

“I’m as good as gone.” Seunghyun replies. Just before ducking out of the greenhouse, he throws over his shoulder; “good luck!” and steps out into the night air.

 

It’s a cold night; no clouds to act as insulation, and the full moon shines brightly above him. His own watch tells him that it’s past midnight, but he’s not going home – not yet. Instead, he follows a familiar path, keeping low to the ground as he walks along the side of the greenhouse. He comes to a rest once he reaches the bushes – the same bushes he’s been hiding in since first year, when Filch nearly caught him out here after curfew. He figured that that cantankerous old man would never understand that plants were much easier to be around than teenage boys.

 

Looking through the leaves, he squints in order to focus on Youngbae. He’s pacing around the table tops, running an anxious hand through his hair, until he stops abruptly. Seunghyun follows his gaze, seeing Hyorin duck into the greenhouse. She looks a little surprised to see Youngbae there, who rubs his neck. Seunghyun’s own heart starts racing a little, nervous for his friend.

 

He needn’t have worried, though. Hyorin is just as shy as Youngbae, as she ducks her head. Silky, black strands of hair move to cover her face and she brushes it away. Her hands then move to cover her face instead, as she gently nods. A great, beaming smile comes over Youngbae’s face but it’s gone in the next instant, his head pressed into Hyorin’s neck as they hug.

 

He smiles too, happy to see his friend happy, but there’s a tinge of sadness that comes with it. Before he met Jiyong, he never knew what it was to feel lonely. Now, though, it feels almost masochistic to be watching this right now, with Jiyong so far away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But with exam season coming thick and fast, he isn’t sure if he can even spare the time to mope around.

 

“Exams are in 2 months. Not to sound like a dickhead, but you _at least_ need to be able to do _obliviate._ ” Daesung insists, looking at him with worried eyes.

 

“Why? I’ve as good as forgotten everything already.” Seunghyun throws his hands up in the air, lying down on the sofa with his feet propped up. “Have you spoken to Jiyong?” He asks, pouting. He hasn’t messaged for at least two days now, and Seunghyun has no idea what’s up.

 

“Not for a while, now.” Daesung answers, sighing as Seunghyun changes the topic. “But he’ll come back for exams.”

 

“You think?” Seunghyun asks, eager. He’s never dreaded anything more than the upcoming exam period, but if it means Jiyong coming back…

 

“He has to.” Daesung shrugs. “Now, _the actual exams._ ” He says, forcefully dragging them back onto their previous topic. “I don’t think you’re as bad of a wizard as you let on.” Seunghyun scoffs, loud enough for the librarian, Madam Prince, to hiss at them to be quiet. They both mutter a sheepish; “ _sorry._ ”

 

“You’re joking, right?” He whispers. “Last week I nearly had Seungri’s eye out in transfigurations.”

 

“See, you have plenty of potential, you just can’t control it.”

 

“I know.” He says, through gritted teeth. Even his parents are (pain)fully aware of his failure to control his magic – countless smashed china plates and other strange occurrences in the house have done nothing to warm them to his world. There was a certain relief when his Hogwarts letter came through, that _finally_ he might learn to control it. Fast forward to a few years down the line, though, and nothing has changed. “That’s the whole problem. I can’t make it to do what I want it to.”

 

“Well – we’ll keep trying.” Daesung says, steadfastedly. “In two months I’ll have you doing charms in your sleep.”

 

“Don’t let Youngbae hear that.” Seunghyun replies, imagining the look on his friend’s face the last time he accidentally sent him flying up towards the ceiling, dangling from his ankle. His flannel pyjamas rolled down, exposing almost every inch of his body. Youngbae never heard the end of it from their dorm mates, and Seunghyun never heard the end of it from him.

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Daesung says. He starts shuffling through the parchment on the table, looking for the most legible notes. But Seunghyun has already lost focus, his gaze drawn to the other side of the room. To one boy, in particular. Small in stature, messy black hair, and tattered, frayed hems along his robes. It reminds him painfully of Jiyong, the way he gives the books in front of him all his attention, running over their spines with an intensity that seems so foreign to everyone else.

 

 _He’s gone_ , he realises. There’s no point denying it anymore; this might be love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But does he know what love is? All of his knowledge comes from watching TV; binge watching _Friends_ in the summer holidays, Love Actually at Christmas time. But real life love – the real feelings and shit that comes along with it – that’s something else. All he has to base that off is his parents, or his sister and her revolving door of boyfriends. But he’s not sure that the latter counts.

 

He thinks this might be it, though. He still feels his heartbeat quicken when he thinks about him – and when is he not thinking about him. Jiyong’s radio silence carries on, and it’s rare for even an hour to go by without his thoughts wandering to the other boy. Most of his free time is spent moping about now; staring listlessly out of windows and sighing out of nowhere.

 

“ _You’re not in a Jane Austen novel._ ” Youngbae hisses at him, one time.

 

“You know Jane Austen?” He asks back.

 

“She was a witch, idiot.”

 

But he may as well be in one of her novels – at least, that’s what his limited knowledge on her writing tells him. Stuck in a castle with only books and fireplaces for comfort, unsympathetic friends and parents that don’t understand him. A long lost love that eventually stops writing to him, rolling fields and damp grass, clouds that hang low and bring mist down to the ground. All that’s missing is the dresses and the dowry.

 

And yet, _and yet_ , they’ve haven’t even known each other a year. He’s known Youngbae for six, and he hasn’t fallen in love with him yet. He says this to Youngbae, who lets out a loud laugh.

 

“You’re kidding me, right?” He asks, looking incredulously at Seunghyun.

 

“Partly.” Seunghyun admits. “Do you think this is love, though?”

 

“Nuh-uh.” He shuts Seunghyun down, shaking his head. He rolls his Quidditch socks up to his kneecaps, quickly covered head to toe in blue and bronze. “We’re not having this conversation now.”

 

“What conversation?” Comes a voice from behind the curtain. Seungri’s head follows it, parting the sheets to make his way through into the changing room. His kit bag dangles from his shoulder and he nibbles at his nails as he makes his way over to the benches. This is his first match, Seunghyun remembers.

 

“Seunghyun thinks he’s in love.” Youngbae sighs, shrugging on his jersey. There’s so much commotion around them that Seunghyun almost misses Seungri’s response.

 

“With Jiyong?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. “Good luck with that.” He mutters. Seunghyun ignores it, used to that reaction by now. But what he can’t ignore is the very public setting they’re all in, keenly aware at the mention of Jiyong of how many people are around them; both Ravenclaw and Slytherin teams all jostling about for space to get changed.

 

“Can we not talk about it so loudly?” He asks, through gritted teeth. “At the rate you guys are going, soon the centaurs in the forest will know about it too.”

 

“Whatever.” Youngbae waves his concerns away. “You should go off to the stands now, anyway.”

 

“What are you doing here in the first place?” Seungri asks, quickly stripping out of his clothes.

 

“Needed someone to carry my gear.” Youngbae buts in, smirking. When there’s no first year available, Seunghyun tends to take their place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the days go by he finds himself having to help Youngbae more and more. Only this time, the job couldn’t be done by a first year.

 

“I need you to be my wingman.” Youngbae whispers, during potions one day. It’s shocking enough to break Seunghyun’s intense concentration on his potions book, looking up startled. He carries on stirring his cauldron, unsure whether the liquid in it is brown enough yet – Slughorn’s passing look gives him all the information he needs, though.

 

“Your wingman.” He says, dryly. In the next instant Youngbae is kicking him underneath the bench, a mad look on his face.

 

“ _Not so loud._ ” He hisses. “Listen. I’ve been trying to get closer to Hyorin, but she’s always with her friends.”

 

“So ask her on a date.”

 

“I can’t get her alone to do that.”

 

“Hmmm. You need facebook.” Seunghyun says, thinking about his sister with her boyfriends.

 

Youngbae looks at him with a vacant expression.

 

“Don’t worry about it.” He says; his jokes doing nothing to distract Youngbae from the topic at hand. Somewhere between his eighth anti-clockwise stir and his third clockwise stir, he finds himself bowing down to his friend’s demands.

 

And - like most things he agrees to - it doesn’t take long for him to regret that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It starts with awkward conversation with Hyorin’s friends – they have nothing in common and it begins to feel as every sentence is punctuated by an awkward silence. It ends, much to Seunghyun’s relief, just a few, taxing days later, with Youngbae following around his newly freed-up Hyorin like a puppy. It’s written all over his face, and Seunghyn is surprised that it hasn’t scared her off, but Youngbae is caught hook, line, and sinker.

 

Seeing his friend so loved up does nothing to help him stop missing Jiyong, and actually seems to serve as a constant reminder of how lonely he is. Exams roll closer, and yet he still hasn’t come back to the school. He becomes sulky enough that even Youngbae starts to become concerned, showing his affection in the only way he knows how.

 

“Eat up.” He says, piling food after food onto his plate. Hyorin, a usual fixture at their breakfasts now, watches him with close attention. “You’re still sad about…” He trails off, gaze flicking to Hyorin next to him. “…It.”

 

Seunghyun sighs.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, have some more pumpkin juice for starters.” Youngbae says, moving to fill up his glass. Seunghyun appreciates the gesture, but pumpkin juice isn’t going to do the trick. Does Jiyong still like him? Has he moved on to someone else? Visions of handsome wizards start to haunt his thoughts. They’re probably better than him at magic, too. Did he realise how woefully uncool he is next to Jiyong, get turned off by his acne scars, finally decide that he couldn’t be with a boy as awkward and boring as Seunghyun.

 

Youngbae can’t hear the torrent of thoughts running through his head, and carries on pouring his glass. Mid-way he freezes, though, gaze fixed on something behind Seunghyun.

 

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

 

He hears, behind him. Whipping his neck around, his eyes meet someone’s torso. Slowly they travel upwards, but he already knows who it is. He looks the same as ever – same grin, same deep green strands of hair, same scattering of moles along his forearms and cheeks. The only thing that’s changed is the hems of his robes.

 

Seunghyun swallows.

 

“You’re back.” He says. He wants to leap up and hug him – every time he’s imagined this happening that’s how the scene has gone. A big, bounding run into Jiyong’s wide, open arms. Contrary to that; he stays sat down. This is a very public place.

 

But that doesn’t stop the grin that breaks out across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the slow updates wow...it's been a hell of a past month. onwards and upwards, though.


	6. Chapter 6

****

“So, Youngbae has a date to the ball.” Jiyong says, looking out to the forest in front of them. Even from a distance they can see the movement within it; tree branches waving in the wind, small creatures crawling around in the undergrowth.  _ If you look hard enough you might catch the centaurs,  _ Youngbae used to say in first year, filled with stories of great beasts and strange creatures from his older brother. It’s been years since then and Seunghyun still finds himself straining his senses, searching for the glint of an arrow head or the sound of thundering hooves. “Seungri too. Soon Daesung will have a date, too.” Jiyong continues, drawing his focus away from the scenery. 

 

He looks instead at Jiyong, waiting to see where this conversation is going to go. He doesn’t say anything else though, picking at the thread of his robes, the gold and red tie around his neck, and avoiding Seunghyun’s gaze. 

 

“Uhuh?” Seunghyun asks, pretty innocuously if you asked him. Answering him with a sigh and a roll of his eyes; Jiyong doesn’t seem to take the same view. 

 

“It doesn’t matter.” The other boy says, brushing it off.  _ Clearly it does _ , Seunghyun almost retorts. But this is the first time they’ve been alone for such a long time, and he’s not about to ruin it by being snarky. “You wanna go walk to the black lake?” Jiyong asks, standing up from the bench they’re sitting on. The wood creaks as the weight on top of it changes, and Seunghyun’s gaze travels up Jiyong’s body. From the trousers - tighter than the tailors make them - around his legs to the tie resting loosely around his neck. “Daesung says he saw a merman last time he was down there.”

 

Seunghyun scoffs.

 

“Like hell he did.” He replies; no one has seen them for years. But Jiyong doesn’t back down, looking at him with a stubborn expression. “And I suppose he’s also seen the giant squid, then?” 

 

“Shut up.” Jiyong says, laughing. When Seunghyun stands up as well the height difference between them becomes prominent again; Jiyong just about reaching his shoulders. They’re standing at the top of the hill; the grounds of Hogwarts stretching out beneath them. He can just about make out the lake; the pier jutting out over the dark expanse of water, the small boats swaying to and fro with the tide. 

 

They begin to walk down the hill, squishing tall and untrimmed grass under their feet as they go, and not for a second is he blind to how close they are, how Jiyong’s hand brushes against his own, the way their footsteps fall into the same rhythm. They walk differently; Jiyong with a sense of abandon, him with the rigid posture his parents gave him from a young age. 

 

“You know, I don’t even know what your favourite colour is.” Jiyong says, before the silence between them can grow into something too big. “But I think I can guess.”

 

“Green.” He says, a big smile on his face as he carries on taking long, loose strides across the grass. His arms swing freely by his side, and Seunghyun thinks hard. He’s never had a favourite colour, but green sounds about right. Green is the colour of his favourite plants in the greenhouse, the grass when the snow melts for spring. It’s the colour of Jiyong’s hair when they first met. It’s his smile right now. 

 

“I guess so.” He replies. The boy to his right smiles again, smugly. In front of his eyes Jiyong’s hair begins to change colour, starting with dark green roots then spreading all the way to the tips. Despite it happening before, Seunghyun still can’t get used to it and he stares, eyes wide open. 

 

“Did it on purpose this time.” Jiyong says, a wide, gummy grin still stretching across his face. Seunghyun gets lost in it, allowing his eyes to wander to Jiyong’s own eyes, flecks of hazel visible in the sunlight. There’s a sudden jolt in his step as one foot gets caught in a hole, disappearing up to his ankle. His stomach plummets to the ground with the familiar rush of adrenaline whenever he comes close to hurting himself, but after a few beats he’s recovered, steadying himself on the grass with his hands. 

 

There’s a scoff, somewhere over his left shoulder. It’s the sound of someone stifling a laugh, and he looks up to see Jiyong with a smile still on his face. 

 

“Garden gnomes, I bet.” He says, offering Seunghyun a hand up off the ground. Shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand, he gratefully takes Jiyong’s in the other. They work together to hoist him off the grass and Seunghyun goes to take his hand back, only to encounter the most subtle of resistance from Jiyong. He takes the hint, letting the other boy slide his fingers, one by one, in between his own. 

 

He looks around out of habit, scanning the grounds around them for other students, and then brings his gaze back around to Jiyong. 

 

“ _ Homenum Revelio. _ ” Jiyong whispers, waving his wand with his non-dominant hand. It’s accompanied by a look that Seunghyun can’t decipher. “There, no one’s here to see you hold a boy’s hand.” 

 

As they head off again the lake becomes closer and closer, close enough to distinguish waves from ripples, different coloured pebbles lining the shore as they move with the tide. 

 

“You want to get a boat?” Jiyong says, once the ground changes from grass to stones underneath their feet. The boat house looms ominously in the near distance, and stories he was told as a terrified first year come freshly to mind. He looks away, worried that if he looks for too long he may really see a figure moving about in there; dark, lanky hair, a long black cape, a pale, rotten hand at the window pane. 

 

Then he looks to the boats; their small, wooden frames jostled by the waves as their ropes cling onto the jetty. They’re not supposed to take the boats out, as far as he remembers. And up close - up close the water is a little less inviting, a little more ominous. No light to see what’s underneath, no air to breathe should they fall in. 

 

“I’m fine on the shore.” He says, swallowing. Jiyong rolls his eyes but gives no further complaint as he sits down on the stones, shifting them under his weight. 

 

“Sit down.” Jiyong says, smoothing out the stones beside him. Seunghyun does what he’s told, gathering in his robes so they avoid Jiyong’s face. “So, I know your favourite colour. What else don’t I know about you?” 

 

_ Nothing,  _ is the first thing that comes to Seunghyun’s mind. That won’t satisfy Jiyong though, so he starts to rack his brains for something,  _ anything _ , about him that would be remotely interesting enough to tell Jiyong. 

 

His dad is a doctor, his mum is on the PTA. His sister wants to be a graphic designer - or marry rich and see where life takes her then. He lives in Devon, close to white sandy beaches and cliffs with jagged edges. They used to have a dog until his sister developed an allergy to it, have roast dinners on a Sunday afternoon, and are allowed one chinese take away a month. His best friend in primary school was called Matt, but they haven’t talked in years. 

 

It’s all painfully,  _ painfully,  _ boring. 

 

“What do you want to know?” He asks, casting his gaze down to the stones around him. There’s one flat enough for him to skim, and he does just that; grasping it lightly between his fingers and flinging it out, watching as bounces off the water once, twice, then a final third time before disappearing down into the water. Somewhere, in his imagination, there’s now a merman with a bruise on his head.

 

Jiyong picks up a stone too, and with a flick of his wand he sends it off in the same direction as Seunghyun’s. Four bounces this time. 

 

“That’s cheating.” Seunghyun says, motioning to the wand in Jiyong’s hand. 

 

“So is you ducking out of my question.” Jiyong says, shrugging. “ _ Spill. _ ”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


For the next few days after that Jiyong is all but glued to his side. Classes are suspended for exam revision, but he spends far less time with his hand in his books than he does with them around Jiyong’s neck, traveling up to his jawline, and working them into his hair. The soft kisses he’s used to quickly turn into something more whenever they find a secluded part of the grounds. The first time it happens - the first time Jiyong doesn’t let him pull away for air, keeps his lips locked against his own - ends with his cheeks the colour of beetroot and his breath coming is heavy pants.  

 

“God, you’re so sexy like this.” Jiyong whispers. 

 

And it’s hard to think about anything but Jiyong; hard to take the incoming exams seriously when he goes to bed thinking about the mole just above Jiyong’s top lip, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiles. Hard to look at the moth eaten pages of books that he struggles to read at the best of times when Jiyong’s head is in his lap, soft black hair falling down onto his legs. 

 

“You’re gonna fail everything if you carry on like this.” Youngbae says one afternoon, jolting him from those exact thoughts. The Great Hall is packed with students cramming in whatever knowledge that they can, from NEWTS students like themselves to tiny first years worrying their nails over their first exams. On the opposite end of the Hall is the OWL students, particularly Jiyong. 

 

He has narrowed eyes, tight lips as he says it. One eyebrow slightly cocked, a look of exasperation on his face. His features stay that way throughout the rest of the day, eventually fading into resignation once the bell tower sounds and Jiyong makes his way over to their table. 

 

“Stop distracting him.” Youngbae says, once Jiyong has lifted leg after leg over the bench and sat down. Daesung follows closely behind him and they both look at Youngbae, surprised. “He needs to study books. Not your face.” 

 

“Not my fault.” He replies, palms upwards in a surrender. Changing the subject, he then asks; “Guess who now has a date to the ball?” 

 

“Daesung.” Follows it quickly after, accompanied with a deep red blush on Daesung’s cheeks. 

 

“That’s my man.” Youngbae laughs, leaning over the table to lightly punch Daesung on the shoulder. Seunghyun watches the exchange, watches what follows it. It seems that, whilst he’s been off living out his teenage daydream with Jiyong, Youngbae has made a new friend. 

 

Inevitably, his eyes travel back towards Jiyong opposite him, and he’s met with a look that Jiyong probably doesn’t want him to read. 

 

_ He wants him to ask him to the ball.  _

 

He wants to go to the ball with him, arm in arm and hand in hand. Seunghyun on the other hand…

 

“So when are you going to ask Jiyong to the ball?” Daesung whispers later that evening, voice hidden by the clamour of students around them. It’s a subject that Seunghyun would rather not talk about - a subject that sends butterflies around his stomach. They’re not the normal butterflies, though. Not the ones he feels when he looks at Jiyong, when he feels the other boy’s lips on his own. They’re nastier than that; hordes of wasps and swarms of pixies. 

 

_ Never _ is the answer. And he doesn’t think he has to explain why. 

 

“I haven’t thought about it yet.” He says, instead. 

 

“Well, you should. Soon.” He replies, with a pointed look at Jiyong opposite them. “And you should also get back to studying.” 

 

“There’s still time.” He retorts, sulking. 

 

“Seunghyun.” Daesung says. His voice is hollow, full of disbelief. “We have a week.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A week. 

 

7 days. 

 

He flops onto his bed after meeting with Daesung, eyes fixed upon the ceiling. He used to do this as a kid; stare at the crack in his ceiling and imagine himself somewhere else,  _ anywhere  _ else. 

 

There’s a calendar on his wall now, given to him by Daesung and kindly enchanted to countdown until their exams begin. Angry, intimidating red letters on it bore a hole in his head and he shuts his eyes, willing them away. It feels as if a train is hurtling towards him - the Hogwarts express with it’s red and gold trimmings and steam billowing out from the pipes. He would gladly step in front of it right now. 

 

As much as he tries to ignore the countdown - it becomes harder and harder each day as the letters get more and more aggressive - the days keep going. Filled with late nights in the library, practicing spells until his wrist cramps and his eyes strain under dim firelight. To top it all off; he rarely has a minutes peace. When Youngbae isn’t beside him, Daesung takes his place. And always next to him, like a basilisk following him around the castle, is Jiyong. 

 

Although he was previously so intoxicating, so enchanting, the closer the exams get the less energy he has to give to the other boy. He loses himself in musty and tattered textbooks, writes notes until his ink pot runs dry and his hands are splattered blue and black, and it’s only when Jiyong stands up abruptly, snapping his book back together with a loud thud, that he realises he’s been ignoring him. 

 

The castle has already started decorating; banners hanging down from the ceilings, memorial plaques erected. Strange witches and wizards move about the castle, important airs and graces about them along with long black robes that flow in the wind. And it feels as if everyone around them is coupling up, finding dates for the upcoming ball. Every other conversation with Jiyong seems to start with some variation of; 

 

“Well, x, y, and z have dates to the ball.” 

 

Accompanied by a raised eyebrow and Seunghyun burying his head even further into the book in front of him. But, as their Care of Magical Creatures Professor told them in first year, no matter how far down they try bury, Garden Gnomes can always be ripped from the ground eventually. So it comes to a head eventually (of course it bloody does). And - to Seunghyun’s complete lack of surprise - it’s all down to Seungri. 

 

“See that girl over there, the one with the ginger hair?” Seungri whispers once the librarian has left their section of the library, books floating behind her in the air. Several students duck their heads as she walks past; the books taking no mercy on anyone. He draws their eyes - Youngbae’s very reluctantly - towards a table to their left, filled by a group of girls. “She’s my date to the ball.” He says, smugly. 

 

His showboating is warranted; soft almond shaped eyes framed by long eyelashes, high cheekbones, and soft ginger curls grace her head. 

 

“Gryffindor.” Seungri carries on whispering, the textbooks in front of him long forgotten. “And you know what they say about Gryffindor girls.”

 

“What  _ do  _ they say about Gryffindor girls, Seungri?” Jiyong asks, leaning over his crossed arms on the desk. Their papers scatter with his movements and Seunghyun hurries to put them back together. 

 

“Gryffindor girls are easy.” Seungri shrugs, unashamedly. “5 Galleons says that I get some after the ball.” 

 

“You rich shit. I’m not betting my money on your sex life.” Jiyong retorts, smiling in disbelief. 

 

“Then bet it on yours. 5 Galleons says that  _ you  _ get some after the ball.” 

 

“Ha fucking ha.” Jiyong says, loud enough for other students to start looking their way. And then, in a quieter voice this time, he says; “Seunghyun hasn’t even asked me yet.” 

 

There’s silence on their table after that, the only sound coming from Daesung’s quill scribbling along his page and Youngbae flicking through his notes. Seunghyun swallows, and he’s surprised that it isn’t loud enough to earn him reprise from the librarian. 

 

He’s just going to come right out and say it.

 

“I didn’t think…” He manages to get out, before trailing off into thin air. Jiyong looks at him, prompting him to go on. “That we should go, I guess.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Well, we go, and then everyone knows that we’re, that we’re….” He trails off once again, watching the expression on Jiyong’s face turn from confused to murderous. As if it’s happening in slow motion, he sees every single miniscule change in the other boy’s face; his eyebrows furrowing almost strand by strand, eyelids narrowing millimetre by millimetre.

 

“ _ That we’re what?”  _ He all but hisses, standing up quickly enough to rock the table. Daesung darts out his hands to stop their notes flying everywhere, a sheepish look on his face as he does so. Jiyong gathers up his things, anger radiating off his body. He wants to say sorry, wants to explain himself. But he doesn’t know how to start. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Usually this would tear him up. He’s never good with confrontation, and he’s even worse at feeling like he’s disappointed people. And indeed, he does feel terrible as he makes his way through the corridors; his footsteps echoing loudly off the old stone walls, a shadow following him, a solitary shadow behind him flickering from the fire brackets.

 

But once he gets back up to his dorm, once he’s flopped down onto his bed and sunk into the covers, he’s greeted by an aggressive, intimidating,  _ two.  _

 

The calendar from Daesung stares menacingly back at him as he asks in a hollow voice, cracking in the middle of his sentence; 

 

“Charms is in two days?” 

 

He sure feels like he could break into pieces right now. 

 

“Yeah.” A voice answers him back. It’s Youngbae, watching him apprehensively from his own bunk. “You’ll be fine, though.” 

 

His words, just as hollow as Seunghyun’s own, do nothing to calm his nerves. 

 

“You’ll be fine.” He says, forcefully this time as Seunghyun looks around at him with wide eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You’ll be fine.” Daesung says the next morning, echoing Youngbae’s sentiments. The calendar said an even more angry  _ one  _ when he woke up this morning, and he ripped it off the wall just as aggressively. “It’s more nerves than anything else now. I promise you.” 

 

The words go in one ear and then out the other. Much like everything he’s been taught over the past few weeks - no,  _ years.  _

 

“You’ll be fine.” Daesung says once more. This time he’s taken hold of Seunghyun’s wrists, making his robe ride up his forearms. There’s a muscle twitching in Daesung’s jaw; a sign of how tightly his teeth are clenched right now. Seunghyun wants to believe him so badly. 

 

But he can’t. Nor can he the next day, walking up to the large doors of the Great Hall with Youngbae, their footsteps echoing against the empty corridors, and waiting for their individual examinations to start. His hand is shaking inside his robe, sweat forming on his palm as he grips his wand tight. 

 

First Youngbae is called in. Then Isabella to his right, Harry to his left, and Rafio opposite him. 

 

And then, finally. 

 

“ _ Mr. Choi. _ ” A small, fragile voice calls out. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or further intimidated that Flitwick is in there as he puts a hand on the door, pushing it open to slowly reveal the enormous room. The long tables have been removed, the candles that usually decorate the ceiling taken away, and the paintings along the walls shrouded with black cloth. 

 

The examiners are at the far end of the Hall, a hall that seems to get longer with every passing second. A hall that seems to sway in front of his eyes as he puts one foot in front of the other, making his way to the table and chair that he assumes are laid out for him. 

 

There’s a brief handshake when he reaches them, and enough time before they begin for him to regret making them shake his clammy hand. Two of them sit in front of him; Flitwick and a much sterner looking lady, with tight curls upon her head and deep set frown lines framing her face. Her earrings are in the shapes of snakes, and their beady little eyes wink at him one by one. He keeps his gaze fixed on Flitwick rather than her, searching his kind eyes for any reassurance he can get. 

 

“We’ll begin with a colour change charm.” He says, quietly. “Nice and easy.” 

 

_ Nice and easy.  _ But Flitwick’s eyes say otherwise; they say  _ I’m bloody worried for you, Seunghyun.   _

 

Perhaps time holds no meaning anymore, for it feels as if a good few minutes pass while he racks his brain for the right words. When he looks up at the large clock above them, though, it’s only been a matter of seconds. He clears his throat, adjusts his grip on his wand. 

 

“ _ Colovaria. _ ” He says, with a gentle wave of his wrist. The prop in front of him - a small mouse with twitching whiskers and a thin, long tail - is the poor recipient of his spell. He almost closes his eyes, not wanting to see the result. 

 

But slowly, almost as if one by one, the short strands of hair on the mouse begin to change colour. The three of them stare at it, completely engrossed, as the clock ticks on and on. 

 

“Good.” Flitwick says, faint surprise in his voice, once, finally, there is a dark green mouse on the table. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He finally leaves the exam hall, 7 more spells and 3 panic attacks later, to almost be accosted by Youngbae. 

 

“How did it go?” He asks, apprehensively. His eyes flick to Seunghyun’s forehead. “You’re missing half an eyebrow.”

 

Tentatively, Seunghyun brings a hand up to his face, brushing along his left eyebrow. Youngbae is right; it stops a good few centimeters before it should, replaced not even by stubble but rather skin as soft as a baby’s.

 

“You can fix it?” He asks, getting a nod in return. “It went ok, actually.” 

 

His voice sounds hollow - shellshocked even. And the past hour has almost disappeared from his memory; he barely remembers walking into the Hall. 

 

But it went ok. 

 

“Think I passed.” He says, as stunned as Youngbae looks. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The rest of the week is hell. A blur of days and nights in the library, practicing spells until there’s a cramp in his wrist, and a strange caffeinated drink from Seungri that keeps him on the toilet for the better part of a day. Moaning Myrtle comes out of a u bend at one point, ducking back down with a wail as soon as the smell hits her. 

 

3 more exams. 2 and a half sleepless nights. 1 nervous morning spent hunched over the toilet bowl. No more fingernails. 

 

And then he’s done; the week is over and he is  _ free  _ for another year. 

 

He walks out of the Greenhouses, into the summer sun, and shields his eyes with his hand. There’s a momentous weight lifted off his shoulders, so great that he’s surprised he doesn’t lift off the ground there and then, float like a feather above the heads of the other students. 

 

“God. We’re done.” Youngbae says, echoing his thoughts. The long grass parts under their steps, leaving trodden down trails behind them. His friend grips his shoulders, shaking him. “We’re free!” 

 

“For a year.” A voice calls out behind them. It’s Hyorin, with her long black hair gently blowing in the wind. There’s a wry smile on her face, one corner of her lip turned upwards. Youngbae opens his mouth, only to close it again a few seconds later. It serves to make Hyorin’s smile wider, and she walks ahead of them smugly. 

 

“I could kiss her. Right now.” Youngbae says once she’s out of earshot, staring at her wistfully. 

 

“I won’t stop you.” He says, holding up the palm of his hands. Youngbae isn’t looking though; still looking at Hyorin walking off with her friends in the distance. 

 

“Spoken to Jiyong since last week?” Youngbae asks, changing the subject. They’ve slowed down, letting everyone else in their class overtake them on their way to the castle. Quickly, Seunghyun’s relief dissipates as he thinks about the last frosty look he got from Jiyong. The past week had been so hectic that he’d had no time to think about the other boy, nor what he could do to smooth over the argument. 

 

“Nope.” He says, simply. 

 

“I imagine he holds a grudge pretty well.”

 

“I think you’re probably right.” He sighs, imagining the silent treatment from Jiyong for the next few days (weeks, months maybe). He doesn’t want that. “What should I do?” 

 

“It’s pretty obvious. Give him what he wants; a date to the ball.” Youngbae answers, pulling Seunghyun gently out of the way of a rabbit hole. His eyes, nose, and lips are scrunched into a grimace as he says it. “I can’t believe we’re having these conversations.”

 

“You know why I don’t want to go.” Seunghyun says, looking at the backs of all the students in front of them. Ties are dangling from their hands, and he begins to work his own one off as the castle nears. 

 

“No one’s going to give a shit that you’re gay.” 

 

He stays silent. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Someone else stays silent, too. Jiyong makes a point to sit the other side of the Great Hall over the next few days, avoid the corridors and staircases they would usually take together, and turns a cold shoulder on him whenever they’re in the same room. 

 

It’s enough to make him tear his hair out - were he not worried about losing enough already from the stress of the past few weeks. Every pair of pursed lips and narrowed eyes sent his way threatens his poor hair follicles even more. And he wants to apologise, to clear the air between them. Now that the stress of exams are out of the way, it feels  _ terrible _ having this weight over him; like a stab in the gut every time Jiyong turns away from him. 

 

But he can’t get him alone to apologise for starters. And even if he did, he doesn’t know what he could say to make it right. 

 

The first step, he decides, is to ask Daesung. 

 

It’s easier said than done, and after their last lessons for the term he finds himself on the long trek to the prefect’s bathroom once more. The whole castle is decorated now; stars scattered across the ceiling of the great hall, garlands growing around windows, and new portraits brought in to line the walls. Not in the mood to be reminded of the very thing that has brought him so much grief over the past few weeks; he has half a mind to tear them all down. 

 

Once he makes it to the bathrooms it’s a short wait before he’s greeted by Daesung; skin red from a hot bath and damp, curly baby hairs around his face. He’s taken aback - why wouldn’t he be - but hears Seunghyun out. 

 

“You don’t want to take him to the ball, but you gotta do something else for him.” He says once Seunghyun has had a chance to explain the situation. 

 

“Do something else, boy!” A portrait exclaims as they pass by, with a glint in his painted eye as he gently mocks the two of them.  

 

“Like what?” He asks Daesung, ignoring the artwork. That’s certainly one thing he prefers about the muggle world; art knows how to be silent. 

 

“I’m not your bloody counsellor, Seunghyun.” Daesung retorts, running a hand through his wet hair. “Figure it out yourself.” 

 

“Figure it out yourself!” Comes faintly from behind them; the same portrait echoing Daesung once more. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Figure it out yourself.  _ If he could do that, then he wouldn’t have asked for help. There’s nothing in  _ Witch Weekly  _ that can tell him what to do, nothing written on the ceiling above his bed or the pillows that he tries to bury his head under. It’s stifling; being in the same castle as him and yet feeling so far away, so helpless. 

 

When he got his wand all those years ago, it felt like the world was now at his fingertips. Anything he wanted to do, anything he wanted to get, all was possible with a flick of his wrist. But there’s no magic that can help when it comes to love. 

 

In desperate need for some fresh air and some time to think, he takes a walk around the grounds that same evening. It’s early enough to avoid the after hours curfew - many students have nightmares of Filch hobbling around after them, his lantern rocking in the air as he moves (he proves to be an even more insufferable ghost than a man) - but just late enough for dusk to settle in. Unconsciously, his feet draw him towards the greenhouses - it’s not until he spots the creepers climbing up the window panes that he realises where he’s walked to.

 

The door creaks as he gently swings it open, hand brushed with dirt and dust once he takes it off the handle. It’s lit only by the fading sunlight, casting long shadows across the room, and leaves rustle throughout the plants as he steps inside - whether it’s in response to his presence or simply a disturbance in the room, he never has known. 

 

They feel like his friends, as sad as that sounds. 

 

They don’t get disappointed in him, don’t give him the silent treatment for what feels like an eternity. He stretches out a hand, running it along leaves and branches as they stretch out towards his touch. It feels like just yesterday he was standing here with Jiyong, in front of these same dirty worktops and dusty windows. 

 

He comes to a halt towards the end of the room. On the surface on one of the tables, amongst clumps of mud, twigs, and dead leaves, is a single flower bud. It should have died months ago, he realises.  Shouldn’t have lasted more than a couple of days after they first met in the greenhouse. 

 

He needs to find Jiyong. To do what - he’s not sure yet. But if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that he has to get the other boy alone. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Do you know where Jiyong is?” He asks, as nonchalantly as possible. He’s had to turn to the last person he would have wanted: Seungri. 

 

“Oh?” He asks back, one eyebrow cocked up towards his fringe. The silver banners in the Slytherin common room glint under the candlelight - usually so warm, but cold and clinical down in the dungeons. This is the first time he’s been in Seungri’s common room and it’s nothing short of intimidating; cold, stone bricks line the walls with portraits of famous Slytherin witches and wizards decorating them - not all of them good. Seungri cast  _ obscuro  _ as he stepped into the common room, and so they all stumble blindly around their painted landscapes, eyes closed by blindfolds. 

 

They’re the only two students in the room - and thank god for that. 

 

“I need...to find Jiyong.” He says the last bit with a cough, his voice trailing away into silence. A blush creeps up on his cheeks as Seungri’s expression changes, and he’s not even done explaining yet. “He’s avoiding me.”

 

“Say no more, say no more.” Seungri says, reaching into his pocket. Out comes a piece of parchment, tattered and yellowed with age. Gently he unfolds it, but Seunghyun stares in confusion as no contents are revealed. Seungri waves it in front of his eyes, as if he’s supposed to understand. “The Marauder’s map.” He all but whispers. The fire beside them flickers, light dancing on Seungri’s face and casting dramatic shadows onto his features. 

 

“Don’t ask where I got it.”

 

Seunghyun stares, blankly. 

 

“The Marauder’s map?”

 

“God.” Seungri says, rolling his eyes. “It’s a map of the school.”

 

He taps on it lightly with his wand. 

 

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He says, in hushed tones. Black ink starts to spread across the parchment, an intricate web of lines that form, eventually, Hogwarts. Small footsteps start to spread across the page; some stationary, some pacing about. His eyes are drawn immediately to the Gryffindor common room - a pair of solitary footsteps in particular. 

 

“Here he is.” Using his pinky finger, Seungri points to the Gryffindor common room as well.

  
They’re pacing around the room,  _ Jiyong  _ scrawled beneath them in messy cursive. 


	7. Chapter 7

He needs, somehow, to get into the Gryffindor common room. It’s a feat that’s easier said than done, with the Fat Lady notoriously wary of strangers thanks to years of guarding a certain Mr. Potter. To make matters harder, he doesn’t even have a viable excuse. Sure, he could say he’s come to study. But where are his books? Where is his quill? A moment of impulse lead to poor planning, so here he is, pacing at the foot of the stairs before the common room.

 

 _I need to see my boyfriend,_ is hardly going to fly.

 

Gentle snores drift down from the top of the staircase, and he hopes to God that it isn’t coming from her. If he has to wake her up – has to face her cranky and sleep deprived, he may as well give up now. _Maybe,_ he should just give up anyway. Call the whole thing quits and dive back underneath his bed covers before Fitch’s ghost can find him lurking the hallways. He silences that voice quickly, though; if he doesn’t talk to Jiyong now then it’s likely that he’ll never have the guts to.

 

With the Marauder’s Map clenched tightly in his hand – thankfully even at this late hour it still shows a solitary pair of footsteps in the common room, he starts to make his way up the staircase. His footsteps echo against the ancient bricks of the castle and he winces, followed by a flickering shadow cast only by the fire brackets on the walls. When he gets to the top…she’s fast asleep. Her large chest rising and falling with every deep breath, big lips adorned with lipstick parting to let out small snores.

 

_Dammit._

He clears his throat. Twice. A portrait beside her stirs; several old men sat around a chess board. But the Fat Lady herself stays firmly asleep, undisturbed by his timid coughs. He looks around furtively, peering into the dark hallways around him to check for stray students. For extra measure he unfolds the map again, angles it into the light from the fire and studies the footsteps moving about the castle. Filch’s ghost is all the way on the other side of the building, closer towards the Slytherin dungeons than the Gryffindor common room. No, the only footsteps moving about are a pair that say _Seunghyun_ and a pair that say _Jiyong._

“Excuse me, Miss?” He says, gently tapping on the painting in front of him. With a jump, the Fat Lady wakes up from her slumber. One eyebrow raises to form a haughty expression as she stares down at him, still dulled from sleep. He feels about two feet tall with the look she’s giving him.

 

“ _What_ , is so important for you to wake me up at this ungodly hour?” Every word is perfectly enunciated; her accent coming from a time long ago. And every word has a bite behind it.

 

“I forgot the password.” He answers, timidly. He might as well scuff his foot in the sand and clasp his hands tightly behind his back for equal measure, for so strongly is he made to feel like a little kid in trouble again.

 

“Please. You’re not a Gryffindor student.” It doesn’t take an Auror to work that out; the Ravenclaw crest proudly displayed on his jumper is enough to prove it.

 

“I’ve…” He racks his brains. “…transferred?”

 

_For God’s sake._

 

“You’re the one in Ravenclaw all the girls talk about.” She carries on, ignoring his last comment. If possible, her gaze gets even more intimidating as she scrutinizes him, inch by inch.

 

“Right, so I’m obviously a student. So please just let me in?”

 

“You may have a nice face, boy, but you’re not getting in.”

 

Just as he’s about to tear his hair out from exasperation, the portal swings open. The Fat Lady’s mouth turns to a small ‘o’ as she swings around with it, her gaze taken away from Seunghyun and towards the brick wall. She cranes her neck to try and get a better view and he does the same, watching with bated breath as someone slowly makes their way out of the entrance.

 

“It’s alright, Miss. I’ll take him back to his dorm.” It’s Jiyong, his hair the colour of fire as it sits above his head in an unwashed mess. There’s a hole in the cuff of his jumper from a nervous habit he’s developed; chewing and picking at the threads until they unravel entirely. He looks tired, and thoroughly unimpressed to see Seunghyun in front of him. If he thought the Fat Lady was intimidating, it was nothing compared to this.

 

The door swings back to seal the entrance and the Fat Lady’s expression immediately softens.

 

“Thank you, Jiyong.” She all but purrs. “Don’t be long, I’ll stay awake for you.”

 

“Thank you, Liv.”

 

 _Liv?_ As irrational as it is, he can’t help feeling jealous. Here he was getting a Spanish inquisition, but one word from Jiyong and she’s putty in his hands. They don’t talk to each other until they’ve reached the bottom of the stairs, out of reach of the Fat Lady’s sharp hearing. But once they do, Jiyong turns to look at him, entirely exasperated.

 

This isn’t how the night was supposed to go.

 

“Are you mad at me?” Seunghyun asks, looking at the hair on Jiyong’s head, the colour of which is only just starting to fade. He misses the green it usually takes on when he’s around, from forest green to lime green, sometimes all shades of the colour at once. Jiyong’s eyes flit upwards, looking at the strands of hair that hang over his forehead. Subtly, his eyebrows raise; he hadn’t even noticed himself.

 

“Not you. My dad. Again.” Jiyong’s jaw clenches, and Seunghyun senses that he doesn’t want to touch anymore on the subject. With a jerk of his head, Jiyong motions that they should carry on walking. “I’ll walk you back. What are you doing here, anyway?”

 

They set off into the dark hallway in front of them, lit sparsely by flickering fire brackets along the walls. Afraid to wake up the portraits that line the walls, they tread carefully and quietly. After whispering _lumos_ , Jiyong keeps his wand cast downwards, illuminating cracks that decorate the walkway. Small spiders and ants scarper out of their footsteps, into holes in the walls and other places that Seunghyun doesn’t want to think about. He came here tonight to tell Jiyong that they _should_ go to the dance, but this doesn’t seem like the right place to do it.

 

Better than nothing though, right?

 

“I think we should go to the ball together.” He says, then winces at how that sounds. “I mean, I _want_ to go to the ball with you.”

 

Jiyong only smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting up ever so slightly.

 

“And you couldn’t wait until morning?” He whispers. They turn a corner, into another corridor just as dark and gloomy. The only light comes from the tip of Jiyong’s wand, so he pulls out his own and whispers _lumos_ , his jaw clenched as he does so; it’s the 21st century, he can’t understand why the wizarding world hasn’t adopted at least _some_ muggle technology. As he almost trips on a crack in the slabs of stone that line the floors, he realises that it would’ve indeed made a lot more sense to wait until morning.

 

“You’ve been avoiding me, in case you forgot.”

 

“How did you know I’d be awake, anyway?” Jiyong asks, ignoring him. “Or were you just gonna sneak into my dorm?”

 

“With this.” Seunghyun pulls the map out of his pocket, passing it towards Jiyong. The younger boy stops abruptly, seeing the lines of ink that flood the page.

 

“ _Is that what I think it is?_ ” Gently, he prises the parchment from Seunghyun’s grip and holds it delicately between his fingers. His gaze is drawn to the writing at the top – the _messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs._ “Seunghyun, this should be in a museum.”

 

“Seungri said I could borrow it.” He says, shrugging. Whilst Jiyong is still looking at the map, he asks; “So, what do you think? You, me, the ball?”

 

There’s a sad smile on Jiyong’s face as he looks up from the parchment, lifting his wand to see Seunghyun’s face.

 

“I would love to,” _Great._ “…if I thought you wanted to go.” _Less great._ “But you don’t want to be seen with me, do you?” _Definitely not great._ “That’s why you came to find me in the dead of night, not when the common room would be full of people watching us.”

 

“No, I –“ He starts to say, even though he doesn’t know what’s coming next. Because the overriding thought in his head is that _Jiyong is right._ Before he can carry out his protestations, though, Jiyong interrupts him.

 

“I get it, Seunghyun. It’s fine. I’m going to go to bed now, can you make your own way back?” They’re still stood with the map in between them, looking down at the rest of the dark corridor. Jiyong shakes the parchment at Seunghyun, who slowly takes it back into his own grip.

 

“Sure.” He answers, and watches as Jiyong turns on his heel to walk back the way they came. Soon all he can see is the small light from Jiyong’s wand, and even that eventually fades into the darkness. If he listens closely he can still hear his footsteps, travelling at a quicker pace than before. He unfolds the map again, but he’s not looking for the way back to his dorm. Instead his eyes flit towards the pair of footsteps that say _Jiyong._ He follows them until they reach the Gryffindor common room, until they stop moving altogether.

 

He has a terrible feeling that he’s lost him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The events of last night seem to have sucked the life out of him. When he wakes up, the first thing he does is to shut his eyes again, not wanting to think about anything other than sleep right now. The students around him start to stir, woken by the sunlight creeping in from the gaps in the curtains, but he stays lying there. What’s the point in getting up? Why couldn’t it go to plan? Why couldn’t Jiyong just accept his invitation, brush past the issue and save him this worry? Why does it even have to be an issue in the first place? Why did the school have to host this stupid ball for a stupid battle fought a stupid number of years ago. He wasn’t even _alive_ back then.

 

Ugh.

 

Curse Jiyong. 

 

The only bed empty in the room is Youngbae’s; he being the only student mad enough to get out of bed when they don’t have classes to get up for. The blue and bronze bed sheets are spread tightly across his bed, tucked into the corners (Youngbae is also the only student mad enough to make his own bed). With only a few days left before they go home for the summer, the room is sparse, empty, and dishevelled. Open trunks and suitcases create obstacles on the floor, clothes and books spilling out of them.

 

His own books are piled high by his bedside, underneath a potted spider plant he placed there at the beginning of term. It’s a sign of how little he touched his books, as the plant’s leaves wind down the pile, twisting and twining with each other. Reaching out a hand to brush them, they grow outwards towards his arm. Several are dry, cracking, he notices. He’s been neglecting it, and he looks to the windowsill to see the same of his host of other plants. How can he keep a relationship going if he can’t keep his plants alive?

 

There’s only one person who can help him out of this funk.

 

He looks at the watch he left dangling off the windowsill; breakfast will be starting in just twenty minutes. But what’s the point? So he can see Jiyong, get another frosty look as the younger boy puts several metres between the two of them? Youngbae won’t be at the feast, either. Youngbae will be at the Quidditch pitch, getting in one final practice before they have to go home for the summer. He probably won’t want to be disturbed right now.

 

Sirio in the bed beside him wakes up, stretches his arms with a giant yawn. The bed covers fall down around him as he sits up, exposing his bare chest. Sirio was his first proper crush in Hogwarts, and he looks away to hide the blush that creeps up his cheeks.

 

“Oh shit, like ten minutes.” He says blearily, looking at the watch still on his wrist from the night before. He jumps out of bed, rousing the rest of them from sleep as he does so. Then he looks at Seunghyun, still wrapped in his bed sheets. “Not coming?”

 

“No.” He sighs, pulling the sheet up to his chin. “Not hungry. Gonna go see Youngbae instead.”

 

Sirio shrugs.

 

“Want me to bring you anything?” He asks with a grin. _God_ , that smile. It’s made half the girls in Ravenclaw melt at some point or another.

 

But he’s not Jiyong.

 

“It’s cool. Thanks.”

 

Once everyone has left, with enough noise to wake half the castle, he too lifts his legs out of bed. Sliding his feet into his slippers – checked like his pyjamas, he pulls a light jumper on without bothering to change. He’s leaving the dorm with un-brushed teeth and un-washed hair, but once school’s out then so are his standards. Thankfully no one is there to see what a lazy mess he is, as the common room is as quiet as the grave when he makes his way down the staircase.

 

For good measure he checks the Marauder’s Map, making a mental note to give it back to Seungri at some point as he does so. He walks through the portal with his nose in the map, squinting at lines of ink to find a certain _Youngbae_ written on it. True to his character, the pair of footsteps he’s looking for are running circles around the Quidditich pitch, so he tucks the parchment into the pocket of his pyjamas and heads out to the grounds of the castle.

 

It’s still early enough for dew to still be settled on the grass, with the English summer not yet reaching its peak. He feels the fabric of his slippers start to get sodden, water start to seep in between the threads to his bare feet. _Impervious_ , he whispers, pointing his wand at the ground. It’s hard not to jump for joy when the spell actually works, and when he arrives at the Quidditch pitch with his slippers still in tact. Above his head Youngbae is whizzing around, a solitary figure amongst the clouds. His Ravenclaw robes – he never practices without them – billow out behind him as he twists and turns, swoops down and soars upwards. Seunghyun gives a little wave, and in a few short seconds Youngbae’s landing at his feet with a thud.

 

“You’re up early.” He says, dangling the tip of his broomstick into the sand.

 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Seunghyun shrugs.

 

“And you decided to skip breakfast?” Youngbae asks, rolling up his sleeve to look at his watch. “I’m guessing your late night rendezvous didn’t go to plan?” Maybe he can sense Seunghyun’s mood, because he seems to soften after that. “Come on,” He says, motioning to the bleachers that surround the pitch. “Practice catching with me and you can tell me about it.”

 

They pick up the box of Quidditch balls together, each holding one side of the heavy trunk, and stagger over to the side of the pitch. The stands are already decorated in blue and bronze, yellow and black for the Hufflepuff sides. After swinging his legs over the wooden barrier, Seunghyun sits down on the benches. Youngbae stays on the pitch, opens up the locks on the trunk and tosses a quaffle to Seunghyun. He catches it with a grunt.

 

“So I asked him if he wanted to go with me, right?” He says, pulling out his wand. With his non-dominant hand holding the quaffle in the air, he flicks his wand in the direction of Youngbae and watches as it sends the leather bound ball flying towards his friend. It’s a welcome distraction from thinking too deeply about last night. “He said no.”

 

In hands clad in leather gloves Youngbae catches the ball, drawing it into his body to soften the blow.

 

“Harder this time.” He says, tossing it back. “Why did he say no?”

 

“He thinks that I don’t want to be seen with him.” The ball stays in Seunghyun’s lap as he thinks about it. “He’s right.” He shrugs, and resumes his position when Youngbae gives an impatient nod of his head. The ball flies at him a little too hard this time, and Youngbae swerves to the side to avoid it. Sand flies upwards as it hits the ground behind him, skidding for several inches and leaving a trail in its wake.

 

“I guess you’ve just got to decide, what’s the worse scenario?” Youngbae’s voice is uneven as he jogs to the quaffle, bending down to pick it up. With one arm he throws it back to Seunghyun, before continuing to say; “Loosing him, or people finding out that you like it up the bum?”

 

With a flick of his wand Seunghyun sends the quaffle flying back at Youngbae’s head. It hits him with a soft _thud_ , and Seunghyun shrugs, unapologetic.

 

“So cocky now you can use your wand.” His friend says resentfully, rubbing the spot on his forehead where the ball collided with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s the worst case scenario? Loosing Jiyong, or everyone knowing that he’s…different? He’s already had to put up with being muggleborn, with the comments from purebloods still stuck in the past, teachers singling him to give insight on the muggle world, ignoring the way the tips of his ears turn red when asked about his upbringing. This would be different. And it feels almost stupid to be worrying about it, like this. The way he is…it’s not uncommon in the muggle world, nor is it a big deal.

 

But the wizarding community is much smaller, and much slower to change.

 

And besides, he won’t _really_ lose Jiyong over this, will he?

 

No. He will.

 

There’s two days left before they go home for the summer. That gives him less than 48 hours to make things right. Unfortunately, he’s never been great under pressure. Never great in the best of times, but when short for time it’s as if the fuse in his head blows, leaving him with a blank mind and no idea what to do next. Youngbae is too busy with practice – telling him ever so politely to _bugger off_ from the Quidditch pitch, and Daesung is glued to Jiyong’s side. Which is why, when Seungri suggests they go into Hogsmeade, he jumps at the opportunity.

 

“Listen, just get him a gift. Say sorry. It will be fine.” Seungri says, as they’re walking down the long winding road towards the town. The castle is getting smaller and smaller behind them, turrets disappearing behind the rolling hills of the grounds, as the mismatched, haphazardly put together buildings of Hogsmeade start to get closer. Even with summer coming, their chimneys billow smoke out into the air, stretching high into the sky to join the clouds.

 

“I think you’re underestimating him.” So far, Jiyong has proven to be anything but easily swayed. Quite the opposite actually; stubborn to the point of insufferable sometimes. He’s taken back to before they’d even met, when all he’d heard were rumours about the other boy. Refusing to remove his tattoos – even to the extend of getting dangerous sticking charms from Nocturn Alley, his steadfast attempts to disobey the school’s uniform rules with piercings and adjusted hems, his attitude walking down the corridors as if he owned them.

 

No, this was never going to be simple.

 

“I think you’re _over_ estimating him.” Seungri refutes, tucking his hands in his pockets. Stones scatter around their feet as they walk side by side, occasionally parting to let through students on their way back to the castle.

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, what is it he wants?” His arms start flailing about as he relishes the chance to give advice. “For you to stop being ashamed of him.”  
  
“I’m not –“ Seunghyun tries to protest, but he’s interrupted by Seungri.

 

“I _know_ that, but that’s how it must feel for him, don’t you think?”

 

He sighs, acknowledging that his friend is right. Gradually the winding path turns into the town, dirt track becoming actual slabs of stone. They both duck to the side as a witch wizzes by on her broom, close enough for her cape to brush against his cheek as the breeze she creates whips through his hair. Seungri starts muttering in anger, but he needs to find out what happens next.

 

“So then what? What do I do?”

 

“Luckily for you, the bar isn’t very high.” Seungri says, still staring resentfully after the departed witch. “You get him something, or prepare some nice words, or _anything_. Whatever you want, just go see him.”

 

_That seems easy enough._

 

“But don’t sneak around at night. Don’t take him out to the middle of the Forbidden forest, cast furtive looks over your shoulders for other students. Let him see that you don’t mind being seen with him.”

 

_Less easy._

 

“People will talk.” He pouts, looking around at the students milling about the town. With nothing left to do until the start of term, it seems they’ve all flocked to the little village. The buildings, each one different in size and colour from the next, practically burst at the seams from the amount of people within them. Even the Three Broomsticks is full to the brim; witches and wizards spilling out into the courtyard to enjoy their Butterbeer in the sun. 

 

“That’s what people do! They’ve been talking about Jiyong since he first started at Hogwarts, it doesn’t matter.” Seungri says, with exasperation. “Heck, they even talk about you behind your back.”

 

“What do they say?” Seunghyun turns around in surprise to look at Seungri. His raised voice attracts the attention of the witches and wizards outside the pub, but he ignores them all. The boy in front of him shrugs.

 

“It’s the girls, mostly.” He says, as if telling Seunghyun what he had for breakfast. “You’re the handsome guy in Ravenclaw.”

 

A blush creeps up Seunghyun’s cheeks as he pulls ahead of Seungri, past the Three Broomsticks and into the rest of the town.

 

“The one with the cheekbones!” He hears from behind.

 

He manages to evade Seungri for a few seconds by ducking into Honeydukes. Immediately he’s assaulted by the sickly sweet smell of the chocolates and sweets that line the walls, as he squeezes his way in between excited third years who crowd the shop on their last outing to Hogsmeade of the school year. _What would Jiyong like_? He wonders, reaching a shelf of fudge. They’ve never had this conversation before – one of many they have yet to have – so he feels completely lost. _Is it a cop out, getting chocolate?_ He also wonders, but if it were a cop out then it wouldn’t be so bloody difficult.

 

“What does he like?” He asks, once Seungri joins him. The other boy shrugs.

 

“No idea.”

 

_Great. The blind, leading the blind._

 

But then he motions to a different section, uses his wand to _accio_ over a box.

 

“Gift box. Simple.”

 

“Are you sure?” Seunghyun asks, holding the box after Seungri passed it over to him. _Honeydukes’ box of Magical Creatures._ He remembers his sister once tearfully yelling at a boyfriend (which one, he’s not sure) that the gift he got her for valentines day had _no thought to it, you fucking bastard._ Remembers, even more vividly, his possessions she threw out from her bedroom window, the way his mum almost tore her hair out in the kitchen muttering _the neighbours, the neighbours._ No, he doesn’t want a repeat of that.

 

“It’s not the gift, it’s what you do with it.” His friend replies, shoving the box into his chest. “Get it, so we can get away from these smelly third years.”

 

Pulling out some coins from his pocket, he roots around to find enough sickles to pay for the box. Once done, he worms his way through the students chattering excitedly in the shop, reaches over to hand his money to the cashier with her hunched back, and sucks his stomach in as he worms his way back _out_ of the shop to meet Seungri again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _Second time round lucky, right?_ He thinks, standing at the foot of the stairs to the Gryffindor common room for the second time this week. The difference is that this time the castle is lit by natural sunlight, flooding in through the large windows and cracks in the walls. This time he doesn’t have to worry about the Fat Lady being asleep, instead his worries are firmly situated with what lies _within_ the common room. With the students inevitably milling about before dinner, the looks he’s about to receive, and what going ahead with his plan means for the rest of his time at Hogwarts (and beyond).

 

Before he can overthink it too much he puts one foot forward and starts to walk up the stairs. The box of chocolates are clutched tightly in his sweaty palm – still not the best idea he’s ever had – and the look he earns from the Fat Lady only makes him sweat more. She raises a carefully painted eyebrow, pursing her lips ever so slightly.

 

“You again?”

 

“Me again.” He says, looking down. Maybe if he’s apologetic she’ll let him in. “Can I get in this time?”

 

“No.”

 

_Dammit._

 

“Ok, I’ll wait.” He replies. Jiyong has to come out eventually, so he takes a seat on one of the stone steps. It’s cold against his bum, but he’ll wait as long as it takes. No other option, really. Every time the door opens and the painting swings around he looks over in hope, only to sink back down in disappointment. It leads to a lot of awkward glances from the students making their ways to the Great Hall, but eventually it’s Jiyong who steps out of the door.

 

He stands up, and Jiyong takes a step back in surprise.

 

“Again?”

 

“Can we talk?” Seunghyun asks. He waves the gift at Jiyong, and feels as his smile turns from confident to sheepish. The hairs on Jiyong’s head don’t know what colour to turn, displaying every shade under the sun as he looks at Seunghyun, his expression unreadable. “Got you a gift.”

 

“Wanna go find a dark alleyway, then?”

 

Seunghyun swallows.

 

“The common room is fine.” He doesn’t miss the subtle way Jiyong raises his eyebrows, glancing at the door behind him in slight disbelief. After a pause, though, he leads them inside back through the whole the painting left in the wall. It takes Seunghyun a few seconds to adjust to his surroundings; the red and gold is almost aggressive, and intimidating lions adorn the banners that drape around the room. A log fire is still lit in the room – despite the sun outside, and the crackling fills the silence between the chatter of students scattered around the big sofas and armchairs.

 

As they sit down at a pair of chairs, it’s hard not to notice the looks they – or rather, Seunghyun – get from the students around them. He hands the box over to Jiyong, still worried that it’s inadequate.  

 

“Wow, thanks.” Jiyong says, turning them over in his hand. “What are these for?”

 

“I want you to reconsider going with me to the dance.” Seunghyun replies. He notices how stiff his body language is, and uncrosses his legs. Unclasping his hands from where they lay in his lap as well, he tries to relax into the cushions behind him. _Cool, calm, and confident._ He can almost hear the cogs turning in Jiyong’s mind, and can probably have a pretty good stab in the dark at what he’s thinking, too.

 

Before replying, Jiyong looks around at the students in the common room, several of which have angled an ear towards them perhaps less discretely than they think.

 

“And why do you want that?” He asks. His expression has softened, with a small, playful smirk on his face now. It takes all Seunghyun’s willpower to not have a furtive glance around, too. But he knows that that would be a near fatal mistake.

 

“Because I like you.” Seunghyun replies, exhaling loudly.

 

The smirk on Jiyong’s face grows even bolder.

 

“A bit louder, please.”

 

_For God’s sake._

 

“I like you. And would like to go to the dance with you.” Seunghyun says, raising his voice a few decibels. The students around them have _definitely_ heard him now; there’s no going back. There’s a pause before Jiyong replies, a moment of silence filled by the sound of wizarding chess, spells cast around the room, and students leaving in loud groups to go to the Great Hall. But for all the activity around them, there is still the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

 

“I mean, I am going to have to try these before I say yes.” Finally, Jiyong replies.

 

As he gently pries open the box, a small chocolate cat jumps out of the box. With quick reflexes they both scramble to catch it off the ground, but watch when it eventually escapes under a grand, leather sofa. Both crouching down, they lock eyes. Jiyong smirks ever so slightly, before grabbing a chocolate mouse out of the box and stuffing it into Seunghyun’s mouth before he can say anything. The chocolate starts to melt in his mouth, and Jiyong joins in with one of his own.

 

“Nice enough.” He says, through a mouth stuffed full of food. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re walking towards the Great Hall together, still stuffing the chocolate animals into their mouths, when it happens. Seunghyun has the tail of a chocolate lion dangling between his fingers, starting to melt against his skin, when Jiyong starts coughing. It’s nothing at first, just Jiyong clearing his throat a few times. But then he croaks:

 

“Stuck.” It makes Seunghyun finally look up from the box in his hands, only to see Jiyong clutching at his throat. A hot flash of panic goes through him as the younger boy just about manages to say, “Something’s stuck.”He keeps coughing, unable to clear it. With his entire attention on Jiyong, the box tips in Seunghyun’s hand and sends the chocolate animals scattering to the ground. They all start to run off in different directions, but he couldn’t care less right now, not as Jiyong’s skin slowly changes colour and his coughing becomes increasingly violent.

 

“Is there a spell for this?” He asks, with the pitch of his voice several pitches higher than normal.

 

“ _Deobstruere._ ” Jiyong squeaks out. 

 

 _Deobstruere._ He’s never done this one before – only managed _wingardium leviosa_ for the first time a few weeks ago for God’s sake. But Jiyong is now hunched over, his thin jumper showing rising and falling with the ridges of his spine and aggressive coughs racking his body. They’re too far away from Madam Pomfrey’s to walk there – and Jiyong would never be able to walk like this. _Crap_. So he slides his wand out of his pocket, braces himself with his feet set apart, and repeats the word in his head a few times before, finally;

 

“ _Deobstruere._ ” He says. It comes out just as squeaky and croaky as Jiyong’s own words, and has no effect on the younger boy. _Double crap._ Jiyong shakes his head, hands still around his throat.

 

“Madame Pomfrey’s.” Comes out as a whisper from Jiyong, like air escaping from a balloon.

 

“I can do it.” He replies, perhaps a little too forcefully. And again, waving his wand at Jiyong’s hunched body; “ _Deobstruere._ ” Again, nothing. He’s beginning to sweat, beginning to panic. _What if he can’t do it?_ The same question seems to linger on Jiyong’s mind as well.

 

“Get – cough – a – cough – teacher.”

 

He can’t leave Jiyong alone like this to go fetch a teacher, can he?

 

“ _Deobstruere.”_ Running his free hand through his now damp fringe, he tries again. A few sparks fly from his wand, this time, and Jiyong looks at it, warily.

 

“Seunghyun – “

 

“ _Deobstruere._ ”

 

 _Finally._ Jiyong lurches forward as a hazelnut dislodges from his throat, coughing it up onto the ground. They both stare at it lying in a crack between two stone slabs, wet from Jiyong’s spit. Gradually he feels his heart rate start to calm down, and watches as the rise and fall of Jiyong’s chest becomes slower.

 

“Saved your life.” He croaks out, leaning against the wall behind him. The cold temperature of the stone seeps through his jumper, sending a tingle down his spine. A fire bracket lights up beside him as the sun begins to dim outside, startling him slightly. He’s just too exhausted to move. “You’ve got no choice but to come with me tomorrow, now.”

 

“I wasn’t going to die.” Jiyong snorts, still bent over.

 

“Are you alright?” When Jiyong still doesn’t move, Seunghyun asks.

 

“Yeah.” He replies, weakly. “Daesung said you’d really improved. Guess he was right.”

 

Jiyong’s comment sends a rush of warmth through his body, fighting against the cold from the wall behind him. He tries not to grin – to show Jiyong just how happy that’s made him. He fails, and Jiyong looks up at him, smiling as well. Standing upright, he places a hand on Seunghyun’s shoulder and gently pushes him off the wall. With his hand still on his back he pushes him onwards, almost as if he’s saying _why did you stop._

 

“God, I knew you were trouble from the second I laid eyes on you.” Jiyong says as they start walking together again, with himself just a few inches behind Seunghyun. With a quick jerk of his head Seunghyun looks around.

 

“Excuse me! You’re the trouble.” He protests.

 

“Me?” Jiyong is almost incredulous now. “You almost choked me!”

 

Involuntarily, Seunghyun’s lips form a wide ‘o’. Before he can respond – remind Jiyong that they only met because _he_ was in trouble at school, that _he_ was the one suspended from school – Jiyong leans upwards. Both of his hands weigh on Seunghyun’s shoulders, pulling him downwards, as he plants a kiss on Seunghyun’s wide open mouth. His bottom lip is damp when Jiyong pulls away again, and he watches in silence as a smirk comes over the younger boy’s lips.

 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Great Hall is full to the brim with wizards and witches, students and teachers. McGonagall pulled out all the stops when it came to decorating it, too; bringing the stone statues to life to serve as waiters and waitresses, adorning every inch of the stone walls around them with wreaths, plaques, and floating candles. Many of the people milling about are people he’s only heard of in stories, likely distorted as they get passed down from year to year. To his side, Youngbae often lets out small exclamations as the older witches and wizards waft past them, dress capes billowing out behind them. Hyorin, on his arm, wears a similar expression of awe, too.

 

But he’s got eyes for one person only. Jiyong, to his left, in dress robes passed down from his father and his father before him. They had a little tiff about it before coming down to the Great Hall – Jiyong refusing to wear anything that man gives him. Seunghyun had to stress that it was that, or he go naked. And whilst he’s happy to be seen with Jiyong, him naked is a whole different story.

 

Nevertheless, they’re here now, and it’s tough for him to keep his eyes of the younger boy beside him. He doesn’t even notice when Youngbae and Hyorin go off into the crowd and  he’s left alone with Jiyong. The fabric of his own dress robes brushes against Jiyong’s and without thinking he reaches his hand towards Jiyong’s, held limply by his side. When their hands meet, when he winds his fingers between Jiyong’s, the younger boy looks up at him, surprised. He shrugs in response, as if to say; _this isn’t so bad._ And it’s not, at all. They’ve had a few looks – probably more than he’s aware of – but the fear, the anxiety that he’s come to associate this night with – it’s completely gone.

 

“Wanna dance?” Jiyong smiles.

 

He spoke too soon.

 

“I don’t dance.” He replies, slowly. But he knows he doesn’t really have a say in the matter, and he’s proved right as Jiyong ignores his words, dragging him in the direction of Youngbae and Hyorin into the throng of people. The house banners line the walls around them, his Ravenclaw and Jiyong’s Gryffindor next to each other, and a frosted chandelier hangs above them, candle wax dripping down from flames high above them. They find an empty spot, and Jiyong stretches his arms around Seunghyun’s neck. With a small nudge to Seunghyun’s feet, he starts to move slowly with the string music around them.

 

It starts at his roots, making its way through to the very tips of his hair. In a few short seconds his whole mop of hair is a dark forest green, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile.

 

“After tonight I won’t see you for a while, probably.” He says, softly. They sway gently together, Jiyong’s feet guiding his own.

 

“We can meet up.” Seunghyun replies, thinking about Diagon Alley. They could meet in the Leaky Cauldren, go to Madam Mim’s café together. They could even leave the alley, go to the countryside for the day, go to the beach.

 

_He’d like to see Jiyong in his swimming trunks._

 

But the younger boy shakes his head.

 

“Doubt my Dad will let me.”

 

“Right.”

 

“ _But,_ I’m taking herbology as one of my NEWTS.” Jiyong’s arms still wrap around Seunghyun’s neck, and he feels the younger boy’s hot breath on his neck as he tucks his head into the crook of his shoulder. “Might be needing someone to tutor me again.”

 

“I don’t know if you needed someone to tutor you in the first place.” Seunghyun replies, with a snort. Jiyong lets out a playful gasp.

 

“Didn’t you hear what people used to say about me?” He says, pushing a strand of hair out of Seunghyun’s eyes. “You’ve put me on the straight and narrow.”

 

“Really?” Seunghyun asks, drly.

 

“Really!” Jiyong arches back, looking into Seunghyun’s eyes. “Well, perhaps not straight.” He smirks.

 

“I only have one year left, here.” Softly, Seunghyun replies. “What happens to us then?”

 

“Maybe I’ll come with you.”

 

“You can’t drop out because of me.”

 

“School was never made for me.” Jiyong shakes his head, tightening his arms around Seunghyun’s neck. He squeezes them. “You were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this became MUCH longer and MUCH soppier than i ever intended aslhdlsdjfkljsf but hey, hope you nerds liked it


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